Doomsday
by flying-cars
Summary: Fred and Hermione's relationship was never a close one, but they might have to get to know each other sooner rather than later. With the war now over, it seems they have bigger things to worry about. Doesn't look like there's any end to the Golden Trio's bad luck. Marriage law fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Marriage law fic. Fred still alive, obviously, but everything else is mostly canon. **

* * *

The war had been over for only a month before everyone's lives were twisted upside down.

Hogwarts was halfway through being repaired; if they kept going at this rate, the school would be ready to reopen in September. The Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione had been splitting their time between repairing Hogwarts and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which had been almost completely destroyed.

Harry had offered to fund their reopening, but the twins had adamantly denied his offer, saying that they had been saving their profits from the shop in case of such an event. Hermione was impressed with their planning.

_"It's war time,"_ George had said.  
_"We'd be stupid not to plan for the worst_," Fred had finished.

Alas, it was the first of July when the news hit the papers. It was yet another blow to the already destroyed families.

Hermione and Harry were residing at the Burrow, since Hermione hadn't had the time to find her parents, and Harry didn't know where the Dursley's were (not that he'd ever go back). Three volumes of the Daily Prophet flew through the window at breakfast, one each for Hermione, Percy, and Mr and Mrs Weasley. Hermione was the first to see the announcement.

"Mr Weasley," Hermione said in a numb voice. "Please tell me you didn't know about this."

Confused eyes trained upon Hermione rather than their food as they waited for an explanation. Mr Weasley shook his head.

"I had no idea," he said softly. "Must have been a massive secret."  
"What is going on?" Ginny demanded, moving closer to Harry's side. He wrapped an arm around her waist.  
"Marriage decree," Hermione whispered.

Her worried eyes locked with Harry, who looked equally terrified, and then at Ron, who looked a bit angry but mostly confused.

"Marriage laws haven't been around since… since ever," Ron said argumentatively. "It's not right. The ministry can't do this!"  
"Yes they can, Ron," Mrs Weasley said gently. Her hand gripped Mr Weasley's tightly. "Under one of their decrees, should the Minister find the wizarding world in great peril, they can take whatever means necessary to replenish and repair our world. It's not a widely known fact."

"Of course, betrothal is a form of marriage law and has been around for centuries, but this particular type hasn't been seen since the dark ages," Mr Weasley said thoughtfully. "It's not like we're going extinct, though. I wonder what they're playing at."

"Read the article, Percy," George said suddenly. Hermione had quite forgotten the twins were in the room, they had been so silent. Hermione's eyes followed the article along with Percy's voice.

"_Under the Ministry Decree Number 13, it has been declared that, should the Ministry of Magic find itself under threat or in great peril, the current members of the Ministry of Magic can undertake any means necessary to eliminate the problem. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt has firmly denied any involvement in the latest development of what has been donned 'The Marriage Decree'. _

_'The Marriage Decree' states that any witch or wizard currently residing in the sovereign land of England must abide by the follow laws:_

_1. __Any witches or wizards between the ages of 17 – 35 must wed a person of the opposite sex as determined by the Ministry of Magic._

_2. __Witches and wizards paired may not be from the same immediate family._

_3. __The marriage must become official within a year of the knowledge of their designated partner._

_4. __The married couple must have at least one child within three years of their marriage._

_Kingsley Shacklebolt refused to comment, but did express his disgust at the passing of this law, saying that it was 'barbaric' and 'rubbish'. The Ministry will be releasing the pairings tomorrow via post."_

Percy placed his paper on the table with a solemn finality.

"We're doomed," Ron said gloomily. Hermione and Harry nodded their heads.  
"How could this happen?" Ginny cried, leaning into Harry's shoulder. He rubbed her back helplessly. Fred and George were looking at each other, almost appearing to be having a silent conversation, when Hermione realised she had been asked a question.

"Sorry, what?" she said quickly, turning red. Mrs Weasley smiled gently.  
"I asked you if you would like more breakfast, dear," she said, gesturing to Hermione's full plate. "You've barely eaten anything at all."  
Hermione shook her head and pushed her plate away. "I think I've rather lost my appetite," she said. The others at the table murmured their agreement, each standing almost at the exact same time and leaving the kitchen dejectedly.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all headed out to the garden, a strange silence enveloping them. They were each stuck in their own thoughts, a shock settling into their bones as they struggled to grasp what was going on.

"How could they do this?" Ron asked as the four sat overlooking the field they used as a quidditch pitch. Hermione merely shrugged since, for the first time in her life, she didn't have an answer. Harry, on the other hand, was fuming.  
"You know, we just win the biggest battle of our lives, and succeed in getting rid of the evillest man in the universe, and what do we get for it? We don't get the rest of our lives to celebrate, oh no. We get forced together like animals at a zoo," Harry ranted, ripping up grass roughly with his hands. Ginny placed her hand upon his, calming it almost immediately.  
"They won't split us up," she promised. Harry looked deep into her eyes and gave a stiff nod.  
"Yeah, there's no way they'd piss off the Chosen One like that," Ron joked weakly. Harry almost smiled, but when he turned to Hermione, she had no comforting words to offer.  
"What do you think, Hermione?" Harry asked. Hermione shrugged, taking a deep breath.  
"I think it's best we wait until tomorrow to see who we're paired with before we start getting angry," she said rationally. Ron and Harry rolled their eyes, but Ginny agreed with her.  
"Exactly. There's no point in getting angry over something that hasn't occurred yet."

Hermione sent her a thankful smile, then jumped in the air and had her wand in her hand before she registered that the loud _crack! _she had heard was simply the twins apparating in front of them. They eyed her warily.

"Easy, 'Mione," Fred said, holding his hands up in the air to show they were empty. George did the same, waving them about.  
"We come in peace!" George cried, falling to his knees dramatically. Hermione blushed and put her wand away with dignity.  
"Don't sneak up on a war hero," Hermione said simply.  
Fred and George rolled their eyes in synchronisation. "We just thought you'd like to know that Kingsley has turned up in a rage about the law," George said casually. Ron stood up immediately.  
"Haven't got some Extendable Ears, have you?" he asked happily.  
"Not this time, little bro," Fred replied. "We're actually allowed to listen in this time."  
"He wants to speak to us?" Harry asked, standing up too, pulling Ginny with him. Hermione followed suit.  
"Not sure," George said mysteriously. "See you at the kitchen."

With a crack, they were gone. A feeling of foreboding set over Hermione.

"I don't think this is going to be as good as we hope," she said reluctantly.

* * *

**A/N: Review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

The four wandered into the kitchen, hearing very little other than the clash of pots and pans washing themselves at the sink. Everyone was seated at the table with Kingsley at the head and the late four quickly sat down. It was obvious Kingsley had been waiting for them before he began.

Harry nodded at Kingsley respectfully, who returned the gesture. "I'm very sorry for this latest event," Kingsley said in his deep gravelly voice, sounding as if he meant every word. "Unfortunately, it was out of my power to overrule the Wizengamot."

Harry scoffed, but managed to cover it with a cough. Percy leaned forward on his elbows, looking every bit the Minister's right hand man with his glasses on.  
"Is there any way out of this, Minister?" he asked professionally, slumping rather than puffing out his chest. Kingsley shrugged.

"Delaying, maybe. There's a few ways to change your partner, but everyone is included in this no matter what," Kingsley said.  
"How can we delay?" Hermione asked immediately, uncaring that her voice squeaked a little and that her heart was racing a mile a minute. Kingsley appraised her with sorrowful eyes.

"Being engaged prior to the release of the law, but then that means you still have to marry that person anyway," Kingsley said, checking it off his fingers. "Being infertile, as the law's purpose is to repopulate the magical community, and you're obviously useless if you can't have children. Relocating to another country, but you have to provide all the paperwork saying you organised this prior to the release of the announcement, and that is obviously impossible for everyone here."

Hermione slumped in her chair. The odds were definitely not in her favour, nor anyone else here.

"What if we planned to get engaged, but haven't gotten around to it yet?" Ginny asked. She spoke fiercely, holding her head up high and gripping Harry's hand firmly. He blushed red at the sudden revelation, but didn't shrink back either.  
"It was always my intention to marry Ginny," he said, looking at Kingsley as if daring him to say otherwise. "But we've been busy with repairing everything."  
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do," Kingsley said. "The best you can hope for is you get paired together, or you find someone who is willing to swap."

Hermione's heart leapt. "You mean we can do that? Swap partners?" A collective sigh of relief came from around the table, but Kingsley didn't look happy. Hermione clenched her fists as she waited for the blow.

"You can swap partners only if the Ministry approves, and I don't know what qualifies as a good enough reason to swap," Kingsley said. "You can try and hope for the best though."

Hermione didn't think that was that much of a blow, for that meant she had a chance at marrying someone she was happy with. Who that was, though… well, she'd have to work that out as soon as possible. Hermione's feelings for Ron, though definitely true, had fallen away to friendship when she realised they would never work. They broke it off mutually, deciding that they worked much better as friends.

"When will we find out who we're partnered with, Kingsley?" Fred asked, reminding Hermione once again that he was here in the room. She was so unused to him and George being silent.  
"Sometime tomorrow. The more complicated the decision was, the later you'll have to wait in the day," Kingsley said, rising from the table. "I'm sorry, but I must leave now and return to the Ministry. Hopefully I can overthrow this damned law."

Molly and Arthur rose from the table to escort him to the door, leaving everyone else at the table. Voices that in no way resembled cheer rang from the hallway as Kingsley disappeared from sight.

George stood and clapped his hands together. "Well, can't sit around here all day doing nothing. Things to invent, you know. Come on, Freddie."  
The twins exited the room in as joyful manner as they could accomplish considering the circumstances, making Hermione smile. They always provided a laugh during the darkness.

Hermione's smile disappeared as she looked at her friends. Ron was staring out of the window, Harry and Ginny staring at each other. It registered in Hermione's brain that she may actually be separated from her best friends in less than twenty four hours.

Dread settled in her stomach. What was she to do but wait until morning, and pray that her letter was amongst the first to arrive? She wasn't sure she could handle the stress of waiting. She wasn't sure she could stand the silence in the kitchen, either, and quickly hurried out and up the stairs.

Hermione wasn't sure where she was going, but she knew that the kitchen was not the place to be. She headed for her room, intending to bury her thoughts with a good book, when she passed the twins' room. A howl of pain, followed by a bark of laughter, made her open the door curiously.

George was hopping around the small room in a frenzy, holding onto his left foot with both his hands. Fred was on a small stool, rocking dangerously backwards while he clutched his stomach. His laughter was loud and unashamed, and it was a while before he realised Hermione was at the door. George had collapsed onto his bed, nursing his sore foot.

"Hermione!" Fred cried, opening his arms out wide. "Welcome to our grand lair!"  
George sat up, immediately forgetting about his foot. "What can we do for our favourite war hero?"  
"Ron's considered a war hero too, you know," Hermione pointed out, taking a hesitant step inside and closing the door behind her.  
"Your point?" Fred asked rhetorically. Hermione shook her head, carefully eyeing off her surroundings. She didn't want to accidentally touch something and end up with a black eye, like she had once before.  
"I just heard loud noises and thought I'd see what was going on," Hermione said honestly, looking at her feet. She felt so stupid coming inside now; she'd rarely had any conversations alone with the twins, and she'd never go as far as to call them friends.

Hermione looked up to find both Fred and George staring at her sympathetically. "We're distracting ourselves from this law nonsense," George admitted, Fred nodding his agreement.  
"I was on my way to do the same when I heard you guys," Hermione murmured. George patted the place beside him on the bed, indicating Hermione should sit. She carefully strode across and sat gingerly on the edge. "I couldn't stand being in that kitchen any longer," she said.

"I think we've all had too much bad news without this law looming over our heads," Fred said, resting his elbows on his knees. "We're too young to get married."  
"And have kids," Hermione added, trying to imagine herself pregnant or with a child. No images came to her head; she was simply too practical to have children at such a young age. A spark of fury ignited within her heart.

"You know, I wanted to make a career for myself and earn a lot of money before I even _considered_ marrying someone. I wanted to fall in love and make a name for myself and _change things, _but now that's all been snatched away from me!" Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself. She didn't feel upset, but the rage she was feeling made her want to cry.

"You have made a name for yourself," Fred reminded her gently. "And you sure as hell have changed things."  
"Your life doesn't end just because you're getting married," George added, patting Hermione's shoulder softly.  
"And as we're sure you've already realised, there's no point in fretting about who you're getting married to, until you know who it is," Fred said firmly. "Which is why we've gone back to creating more products."  
"We're disastrously short on stock," George told Hermione, looking at her curiously. "Don't want to help by any chance, do you? We'd kill for a good potioneer right now."

Hermione was flattered, but tried not to let it show. "Surely you two are good enough? They're your products, after all."  
Fred shrugged his shoulders. "Charms and Transfiguration are more our areas of expertise. I mean, sure, we could do it," he said.  
"But you look in need of a better distraction than reading," George said softly, as if he was trying not to hurt her feelings. Hermione pushed her hair out of her face.  
"Well, I suppose you're right. What can I do to help?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione found that Fred and George were actually quite talented in the field of potions, and had the sneaking suspicion that they were being modest just to make her help. Hermione found that she didn't mind so much.

The potion she needed to make for the Fainting Fancies was incredibly complicated and required all of Hermione's attention. When the three descended for dinner, she had completely forgotten all about the bad news they had received.

It came back to her upon entering the kitchen though, and Hermione was soon feeling dejected along with everyone else in the room. Though no one mentioned the dreaded law, the weight of it had Hermione feeling almost claustrophobic. She hurriedly finished her dinner, skipped desert, and went to bed early. She tossed and turned for an hour, trying to calm her fretful mind, before Ginny slipped through the door. Hermione couldn't be more relieved to have some company.

"Where were you today?" Ginny asked, sitting on the end of Hermione's bed. "We were worried you'd gone off on your own somewhere."  
Hermione smiled at her friends' protectiveness. "I was with the twins helping them make products," Hermione said. "They helped me kept my mind off of things."  
Ginny sighed wistfully. "Yeah, they're pretty good at that."

The two fell into a comfortable silence, one Hermione broke. "How are you holding up, Gin?"  
Ginny chewed her bottom lip whilst she thought. "I mean, I know I'm only seventeen and all, but I've always known Harry was the one for me," she admitted in a small voice. "It sounds stupid, but I just knew, and this law isn't going to change that. Kingsley said that we could change partners, and even Ron said that the ministry wasn't stupid enough to separate us."

Hermione held her tongue. As far as she knew, nobody really knew about Harry and Ginny's relationship besides those at Hogwarts. What interest would the ministry have about the love affairs of students, even the Chosen One's? Still, Ginny was clinging to the hope they wouldn't be separated, and Hermione didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

The two girls didn't speak again and Hermione soon fell asleep, exhausted after her day of stress. She woke at eight, just as she always did during the holidays, and quietly gathered her clothes for a shower. Ginny didn't wake; Hermione bet she'd sleep until ten, just as she always did.

Thankfully no one was occupying the shared bathroom of the Weasley household and Hermione quickly claimed it as her own. The water was still warm and it soothed her muscles. She lathered her thick hair with shampoo, taking extra care to notice every smell, and did the same with her soap. It was one of her relaxation techniques. Conditioning her hair last and rinsing that, Hermione prepared to leave the comforting safety of the shower. Turning off the water shattered the illusion of an everyday lifestyle, and as Hermione dried herself off with her towel, the deafening silence of the bathroom made her all the more eager to leave. In the kitchen surrounded by people – people who loved and cared for and supported her – was where she needed to be.

Unfortunately there was only Percy, Molly and Arthur in the kitchen when Hermione graced them with her presence. Though Mr Weasley respected Hermione's wishes to not talk about muggle contraptions since they reminded her of her parents, he did forget sometimes, so Hermione struck up a conversation with Percy about furthering house elf rights.

Percy was telling her how unlikely it would be since the elves were considered creatures despite their human conscience when the first letter flew through the window without an owl.

Hermione grabbed for it before it landed on the table. Her heart leapt in anxiety; this was it, this was the letter that would change her life forever. This letter held the answer to all of Hermione's problems.

That letter wasn't even addressed to Hermione.

"Who's it for, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked into the thick silence. Hermione shook herself out of her reverie.  
"It's for Ginny," Hermione said in a surprised tone. Mrs Weasley frowned in confusion.  
"But where's Harry's?" she asked.

Hermione suddenly felt as if the letter was tainted and dropped it on the table. "Shall I go wake her, then?" Hermione asked, desperate to do something other than stare at the bloody letter. Mrs Weasley shook her head.  
"Let her rest," Mr Weasley said quietly.  
"Have a spot of breakfast, dear, come on," Mrs Weasley said, making a lot of noise in the kitchen as she quickly whipped up some eggs and bacon for Hermione. At first she didn't feel all that hungry, but when the plate was in front of her, Hermione couldn't help but eat. The smell was too enticing.

Fred and George could be seen coming down the stairs, their steps in perfect synch, when the next letter flew through the window. It was addressed to George. Hermione placed it in the middle of the table besides Ginny's.

The twins walked into the kitchen, their eyes immediately narrowing in on the accusing letters. They sat opposite Hermione, George reaching out to take his letter. Fred looked almost relieved when he saw the other letter wasn't for him. Hermione wondered why.

"I was thinking we could wait until everyone was awake," Mrs Weasley suggested timidly as George held the letter in his hands. "That way, we could all share the pain, or joy, that comes with it."  
George looked at the letter, then at Fred, before shaking his head. "Sorry mum, but I need to know."

Hermione felt sick as George ripped into his letter.  
"Read it aloud, son," Mr Weasley said, sipping his orange juice. George cleared his throat dramatically.  
"Dear Mr Weasley. Under the Ministry Decree Number 13, it was declared that, yadda yadda yadda, the Marriage Decree had come into effect, which states, yadda yadda yadda… The ministry has chosen your partner as…" George paused here to look at everyone in the eye mysteriously, then announced, "Miss Angelina Johnson."

A collective sigh came from everyone at the table. "Oh, she's a nice girl," Mrs Weasley said happily.  
"Mum, you've never met her," George said with a roll of his eyes.  
"That's irrelevant. Here, dear, have some breakfast. You look a bit peaky."  
"That's because we just woke up, mum," Fred said, also rolling his eyes. He received a whack on the back of his head.

Hermione sat anxiously through breakfast, waiting and hoping beyond hope that her letter would be the next to arrive. She was ready to start planning a way out of this, or plan her future with the person she was chosen to be with… she was ready to do something. She wasn't used to being out of action, and the wait was worse than anything she could ever have imagined.

It was worse than hunting for horcruxes, and far worse than watching Harry battle Voldemort for the last time.

Percy's letter was the next to arrive, to which he simply announced he was paired with a girl named Audrey, and blushed profusely when Fred and George began catcalling. Hermione's heart lifted at the small release of tension.

Ginny descended down the stairs, freshly washed and wide awake, with Ron and Harry trudging sleepily behind her. It seemed she had woken them both up, a feat Hermione praised her highly for.

She froze when she saw her letter on the table, but quickly gathered herself and sat at the table, piling food onto her plate, acting as if the letter didn't exist.  
"I want to wait until everyone else has theirs," Ginny said, answering the questioning but silent eyes. Ron and Harry helped themselves to breakfast as the rest of the table dispersed. Fred and George lingered in the doorway.

"Did you want to come help us again, 'Mione?" Fred offered, his hands in his pockets.  
"We've got loads to do today," George added. Hermione smiled but declined their offer.  
"I'm staying here until I get my letter," she said firmly. The twins shrugged and left the kitchen.  
"You know that might not be until this evening, right?" Harry asked Hermione in a tone that wondered if she'd gone insane. Hermione nodded her head.  
"I'll just wait here until evening, then."


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione's resolve didn't last long. When Harry and Ron finished their breakfast and no one else's letter arrived, they sat with her for a while to keep her company. Ginny fetched their chess set and the three settled into the long game, Ginny promising to battle the champion.

Ginny seemed so well composed, with her letter only a few feet away from her. It was obvious that she wasn't partnered with Harry; if she had been, his letter would be here too. So just who was she partnered with? Hermione wanted to know almost as much as she wanted her own letter to arrive.

Ten minutes into the chess game, Hermione couldn't stand sitting still and announced she was going to help the twins. It seemed to fall on deaf ears, but Ginny nodded in her direction, so Hermione stood and ventured up the stairs.

It was eerily quiet on the twins' floor, so Hermione pressed her ear against their door. She heard nothing and, wondering if they were even inside, knocked gently. The door flew open almost immediately.

"We thought you'd come up," Fred said, who was lounging on his bed.  
"We decided to wait until you showed," George elaborated, who was also on his bed.  
"It was awfully quiet, I wasn't sure if you were even inside," Hermione admitted, closing the door behind her.  
"Contrary to popular belief, we do have the ability to remain quiet," Fred said dryly. Hermione almost blushed.  
"I'm very much aware," she replied. "So George, are you happy with your pairing?"

"We were just chatting about that, actually," George said cheerfully. "Couldn't have been luckier, I'd say. She's a hell of a girl."  
"That she is," Hermione agreed, remembering the many times she'd yelled at Harry about quidditch.  
"I wonder who'll be next to get their sentence," Fred said darkly. Hermione chewed her lip.  
"I think it'll be Ron," she said hesitantly. Fred and George gave her questioning looks. "It's just a feeling I have, that's all."  
Fred and George nodded solemnly. "I think it'll be Fred," George said. "We've never done anything separately before, why should that stop now?"  
"Quite true, brother of mine," Fred agreed pompously. Hermione wasn't sure if they deliberately forgot Percy's letter had arrived after George's, or if they were so used to doing everything together it genuinely did slip their mind. Fred clapped his hands together and jumped off the bed.

"Right. What's on the agenda today, Gred?"  
"I thought _you_ knew, Forge," George replied in shock. "I haven't been keeping track!"  
"Neither have I!"  
Fred and George walked over to their cauldrons and took a deep sniff.  
"Oh, that's right," Fred nodded to himself. "Wonder Witch products."  
Hermione snorted. "You aren't still doing those, are you?" she asked in doubt. George looked shocked.  
"Yes, we are! Those are huge sellers!"  
Fred was also feigning surprise. "It wasn't that long ago you admitted they weren't a bad bit of magic, Hermione!"  
Hermione's heart almost stopped when she realised it had indeed been less than two years ago. "You're right, it wasn't," Hermione murmured. She tied her messy hair back into a bun, straightened her shirt, and appraised the cauldron herself. "What am I doing for you today, then?" she asked.  
Fred and George grinned. "Patented Daydream Charms," they said together. Hermione smiled.  
"Might need to stock up on these if I get matched with a horrible person," she joked. Fred grinned at her.  
"You and me both, kid."

The unlikely three spent the rest of the day teasing each other about the types of products they could use on their partner if they were particularly horrible. Fred said that George would need to use one of their love potions to get Angelina to fancy him, for Fred had always been the better looking twin. George replied that Fred would always need to wear a shield cloak for protection from jinxes because his wife would always be pissed off at him and his inability to comprehend the female gender. Hermione very carefully remained silent whilst the two bickered, unwilling to enter the battlefield of insults the twins so casually threw at each other.

They skipped lunch, and before Hermione knew it, it was sundown and she hadn't thought about her letter arriving once. Fred's had arrived next as George predicted, but he was too preoccupied to open it at the time (having been battling a Thestral Thrasher firework gone wrong) and so it sat at the kitchen table beside Ginny's. The three went down to dinner at Mrs Weasley's call, too cheerful to care too much about the letters. Hermione sat beside Ginny at the table; as cheerful as she was, Hermione couldn't help but look for her letter. Surely it had come by now?

Fred, Ron and Ginny's letters sat in the middle of the table. Hermione and Harry's were nowhere to be seen.

"Shall we eat dinner first?" Mrs Weasley suggested in a cheery tone. Hermione agreed, knowing that she was bound to lose her appetite after reading the letters.

Dinner passed quickly, the conversation topic mostly surrounding the letters.

"They can't have forgotten us, right, Harry?" Hermione asked nervously. Harry shrugged his shoulders.  
"Kingsley said that they'd arrive, so they'll arrive," he said simply.  
"Yes, but he also said that _when _they arrived depended on the complexity of the decision," Hermione reminded him quickly. "What could be so complicated about us?"  
"Well, Harry _is_ the Boy Who Lived and all," Fred piped up sarcastically.  
"And you're both part of the Golden Trio," George added. Ron made a sound of protest.  
"Oi, so was I!"  
"Yeah, but you're a pureblood," George said as an explanation, then returned to his dinner without realising the implications of what he said. Hermione's stomach dropped. After all this time, and all those deaths during the war, the purity of her blood was still a defining factor in her life.

Fred leaned over to her. "Hey, you'll be fine. If anything, they'll be deciding who could best protect you against those who hate your blood. You'll be the safest witch in town." He offered her a small smile and helped himself to the newly appeared dessert.

Fred's words of comfort eased Hermione's tension enough that she helped herself to a serving of jelly for dessert. She had just finished when two letters flew through the window.

"Clear the table!" Mrs Weasley cried, waving her wand in a series of complicated motions. Everybody's plates rose in the air whether they'd been cleared or not and made their way to the sink. Water began running and the plates began washing themselves.

"Let's begin," Mr Weasley said in a firm tone. "In order of who received their letters first, shall we?"

Ginny nodded her head, reaching for her letter. Her fingers didn't shake as she tore open the envelope. Hermione watched Harry as his face went blank, hiding all evidence of emotion.  
"Dean Thomas," Ginny said. She sighed and slumped into Harry's side.  
Fred went next. "Katie Bell," he announced in a flat tone.  
"She's not so bad," Hermione offered in comfort, wincing at how useless her words were. Both Fred and George snorted.  
"Maybe if she wasn't already dating Oliver Wood," Fred grumbled, crumpling his letter up in his fist.  
"Where is Oliver, anyway?" Harry asked curiously.  
"Out of the country with quidditch. He'd be exempt from this stupid law," Fred muttered.

Next was Ron, who fumbled opening his letter and avoided Hermione's eyes when he declared Lavender Brown was to be his partner.

Harry and Hermione met each other's eyes as they reached for their letters. Hermione couldn't tell what Harry was thinking, but his eyes were guarded which was the only clue Hermione had as to how he was feeling.

The accusing letter felt heavy and cold in Hermione's hands as she tore it open with shaking fingers. Her composure was pathetic and she wished she had been as graceful as Ginny. Hermione took out the folded parchment.

_Please don't be a Slytherin, anything but a Slytherin…_

Hermione had intended to read the full letter before reading the name of her partner, but her eyes, curiosity, and impatience betrayed her. They glanced down to the bottom of the letter where it declared in curly blue writing, Harry Potter was her partner.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione met Harry's eyes in horror. He didn't look upset, but he definitely wasn't pleased, and his eyes quickly returned to read the letter. Hermione followed suit. Surely this letter couldn't be real?

But everything her eyes were seeing told her brain that she was definitely partnered with Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, her best friend – and absolutely nothing else.

A loud cough brought Hermione back to reality, reminding her that she was not alone in the room, and everyone was anxiously awaiting the name of her husband.

Hermione looked once again to Harry. "Shall you go, or shall I?" Hermione asked, knowing that Harry would go first, as he was always willing to take the fall.  
"I've been partnered with _Miss Hermione Granger,_" Harry quoted.

Silence settled over the Weasley's once again. Then, to Hermione's absolute horror, Fred began laughing.

"I told you they'd partner you with whoever would protect you best," Fred chuckled. He then added sarcastically, "Congrats on the engagement!"  
Ginny snatched Harry's letter out of his grip and began reading quickly. "I can't believe this," she mumbled grumpily. "This is utter rubbish!"  
"I'm going to apply for a swap," Hermione said immediately, knowing that Harry would be in full agreement with her. They were never meant to be more than best friends.  
Ginny immediately became mellow. "No, Hermione, you don't have to. I'd rather Harry was with you than some girl who cares about his fame and definitely doesn't deserve him."  
Hermione shook her head. "There's no choice, Gin. Harry and I were never meant to be married. It's worth applying for a swap; that means there's a chance someone in this world will get a happy ending."

Ginny stood and walked around the table to give Hermione the biggest hug of her life. "You're the most nicest, kindest, best friend I could ever ask for," Ginny whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione simply replied with a smile.

"We'll go to the ministry tomorrow," Mr Weasley said. "I, for one, would like to find out who thought it was a good idea to create this law."

The table soon dispersed after a few more curses towards the ministry. Fred and George moved to the sitting room, where Hermione intended to go herself – but first, she had to find a good book to read.

Digging through her trunk was no easy task, and finding anything in her beaded bag was another feat altogether. Despite the odds against her success, Hermione finally pulled out a copy of _Dark Jinxes and Curses_ from her beaded bag. It was among the gentler books Hermione took from Hogwarts before her escapade. Hiding the cover against her chest, Hermione ventured down the stairs to the lounge. She hovered at the door, noticing the twins speaking in incredibly low voices. They noticed her presence within seconds.

"I dare say you can't get enough of our company, Hermione," Fred said with a teasing smile.  
Hermione blushed and shrugged. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you guys were talking. I can go somewhere else if you like."  
"Nonsense!" George cried. "Come sit with us! What are you reading?"

Hermione shuffled over to the couch and sat in between Fred and the armrest. She handed the book guiltily over to Fred, who gave a low whistle and passed it onto George.

"Didn't think this would be your genre of reading," George said suspiciously as he handed it back. Hermione hunched her shoulders in.  
"I took it on the hunt. Preparation is key, George. You should know."

George remained silent, for he very well did know what preparation meant in times of trouble, and didn't question her further. Fred wasn't so worried.

"Brushing up on your skills, are you?" he teased. "After you swap, you don't know who you'll be getting with. Might be a Slytherin after all!"  
Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. "Ginny deserves to be happy," she said simply. "Harry and I were never meant to be more than friends."  
"It's still a very honourable thing to do," George said, leaning around Fred to look at Hermione earnestly. "We were just talking about the swap, actually. Fred's thinking of applying."  
"Really?" Hermione asked. "Why? I thought you were happy with your pairing. Could have been a whole lot worse, after all."  
"Same to you," Fred pointed out, and Hermione acquiesced his point. Fred then sighed deeply. "It's worth a shot, though. Katie has made it clear how in love she is with Oliver. I don't think I could face her knowing that she was stuck with me by law."

Hermione was at a loss of what to say, so she rubbed his arm comfortingly instead.

"I'm just not meant to married, 'Mione. I nearly died in that war. I want to live before I chain myself down." Fred looked at Hermione with wide blue eyes. "You and me… we're more alike than we'd ever guessed."

Hermione realised that Fred was completely right, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Everything has to be alright in the end, Fred." At his scoff, Hermione added jokingly, "And if it doesn't, I'll hex everyone with everything I know from this book until it does."

That earned her a laugh from both Fred and George, and somehow Hermione felt as though she had made a little bit of a difference that night.


	6. Chapter 6

Morning rolled around as it always does, meaning that it was the day they were going to the ministry. Hermione didn't wake Ginny as she dressed – not that it was possible to wake Ginny with anything less than an explosion – and headed downstairs, avoiding the creaky stairs.

Fred, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Percy and Harry were already seated at the table. Hermione was surprised but pleased to see Harry already awake.

"Good morning, everyone," Hermione called chirpily. She was greeted with various murmurs as she sat next to Harry, helping herself to some buttered toast. "You're up early, Harry."  
"Couldn't sleep," Harry muttered, moving his hair to cover his scar. He lowered his voice so only Hermione could hear. "What if they decline our application, 'Mione?"  
"Then we keep trying, Harry. That's what we always do."

It was the closest thing to a deep conversation Harry had been willing to have since the war, and Hermione hated herself for not having a comforting thing to say. She patted his hand gently, knowing that he didn't want to further the conversation.

"When are we leaving?" Harry asked Mr Weasley, who was cleaning his glasses.  
"As soon as we're ready. I have a feeling that there will be a lot of people wanting to apply for swaps."  
Hermione realised that she was the only one eating and quickly finished. "Let's go, then," she encouraged.

Everyone else followed suit, Mr Weasley leading the way out beyond the Burrow's wards. In a grave tone, Mr Weasley said, "Apparate directly into the auditorium, and if that doesn't work, go through the visitor's entrance. I trust you know where that is." Fred, Hermione and Harry each nodded.  
"Why wouldn't apparating straight in work?" Fred asked, receiving a look from his father that clearly stated he thought Fred was being daft.  
"On three then. One, two…" Harry reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand out of habit. "Three."

Hermione focused on the auditorium as she was told to, and to her relief she was allowed through. She appeared on the tiles with Harry at her side. Faint memories of her last visit to the ministry ran through Hermione's mind, but she pushed them away. She tugged on Harry's hand.  
"Let's find the others, alright?"

At Harry's nod Hermione led the way through the crowd, looking for a flash of red hair. Fred was taller than Mr Weasley, but Hermione was shorter than most of the crowd. It was Harry who spotted them near an elevator.

"I'm glad you made it through alright," Mr Weasley said, entering the elevator. "Come on, we're going to Kingsley's office. He'll know how to go about applying."

The ministry wasn't the eerie quiet Hermione had come to expect from the place, but was bustling with noise and clatter. Kingsley's office floor was the busiest Hermione could imagine. She clung to both Harry and Fred's hands, determined not to lose either of them in the hustle and bustle.

Mr Weasley led the way through a series of complicated turns before arriving at a wooden door with a golden plaque on it reading:

_Kingsley Shacklebot  
Previous Head Auror  
Order of Merlin, Second Class  
Minister for Magic_

Mr Weasley rapped his knuckles sharply on the wood precisely four times at exact second intervals. The door opened a crack and Hermione could see Kingsley peering through.

"Arthur? Yes, please come in, of course," Kingsley muttered, opening the door fully. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you. All this ruckus, let me tell you…" Kingsley made himself comfortable behind his rather large desk before he realised Mr Weasley had company. "Sorry, Arthur. What can I do for you?"  
"We want to apply for a swap," Hermione said confidently. Kingsley nodded his head in understanding.  
"You should really go down to reception… that's where the official forms are… but I do happen to have a few forms here," Kingsley said, taking out a bright pink form from one of his drawers. Using his wand he created three duplicates, replacing the original back in the drawer. "You have to fill these out and hand them back in at reception."

Hermione nodded her head as she gracefully took the forms off his desk. "Thank you, Minister." Kingsley inclined his head in her direction.

"Arthur, I'm afraid I have to ask you to stay, I could really use an extra hand around here."  
Mr Weasley nodded his head. "Tell Molly I'll be back in a few hours," he said to Fred. "Go straight home."

Fred rolled his eyes and headed out the door. "Bloody man thinks I can't go anywhere without getting into trouble," Fred grumbled. "I'm twenty years old, for crying out loud."  
"Yes, we're all sure you can look after yourself," Hermione soothed Fred, who shot her a dirty look. "But I think he was referring to the paparazzi."

Harry and Fred both looked around to see a crazed mob of black cameras and bright flashes heading their way. Instinctively Hermione grabbed onto both their hands.

"Trust me," was all Hermione said before she apparated them away from the paparazzi.

Her feet landed uncertainly on the cobbled path of Diagon Alley, Harry's quick reflexes saving her from spraining an ankle. Looking around and not seeing any invading journalists who may have somehow attached themselves to Hermione's apparation, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry about that," Hermione said earnestly, making sure Harry was alright. "I would have gone straight to the Burrow, but after what happened with Yaxley and the last time we tried to escape the ministry, I just wanted to be sure there was no one with us." Hermione turned her attention to Fred, who was giving her a curious look, but something on her face made him refrain from asking questions. "Back to the Burrow then?" Hermione asked, linking arms with Harry once more.

"I'd actually like to visit the shop while we're here, if we can," Fred said. He wasn't asking for permission and already began walking towards number 93. To Hermione's shock, she had apparated only a few shops away from it.

The usually colourful shop was charred with ash, many of the windows had been shattered, and the door hung lopsidedly on its hinges. The Weasley family had decided to work from the back of the shop forwards, so onlookers couldn't see the progress they were making.

_"If people see us rebuilding, it might cause another attack," _Fred had said solemnly.  
_"And we definitely couldn't afford that setback," _George had added.

Fred didn't try to open the front door, knowing that the amount of wards on the place would set off multiple alarms and defence mechanisms. He stood barely a meter away from it, looking through the window.

"It's looks as though we've made no progress over the last month," Fred said dejectedly. "It looks just as bad as it did the first day we came here."  
"No it doesn't, mate," Harry said consolingly.  
"Not all change is visible," Hermione added quietly. "We've restored the entire back room and extended it. That's a massive achievement over one month."  
Fred was shaking his head, so Hermione whipped out her favourite tactic: perspective.

"In the muggle world, renovations can take months, if not years," Hermione said firmly. Harry nodded his agreement.  
"But we're not muggles, are we, Hermione?" Fred snapped. Harry immediately stepped up to Hermione's side, ready to defend her should she need him too, but Hermione tugged him back almost imperceptibly.  
"No, you're not. You're also not a child, so stop acting like one," Hermione snapped back. A flash of hurt crossed Fred's face before it fell in realisation.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Let's go back home," he murmured. He allowed Hermione to take his hand in hers as she initiated the apparation.


	7. Chapter 7

"These forms are hard to look at," Harry grumbled as he rubbed his eyes for the third time.  
"I know," Hermione said sympathetically. "There must be some sort of charm on them, probably to make you want to swap your partner less."

Harry straightened in his seat, all the more determined to finish it now he realised the ministry didn't want him to. Fred was spitting out curses at the ministry.

"Why, those manipulative, conniving, high and mighty _bastards! _Who the hell do they think they are?" Fred exclaimed, throwing his quill down in indignation. Hermione rolled her eyes and returned to her application, down to question nine.

_1) Name: _Hermione Jean Granger_  
2) Age: _Eighteen_  
3) Blood Status (Please Circle): _Muggle born_  
4) Schooling: _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_  
5) Wand Specifications: _Vine wood, Dragon Heartstring Core, 10 ¾ inches_  
6) OWL's Achieved: _Ten_  
7) NEWT's Achieved: _N/A_  
8) Current Career: _N/A_  
9) Reason For Application:  
10) Preferred Partner (if applicable): _

Hermione's eyes fluttered down to question ten, unsure if what she was seeing was truly there. Was the ministry truly giving her a say in her future? Would they really take her suggestion into account?

"Harry," Hermione whispered, pinching his arm to get his attention.  
"Ow! What?" Harry whined.  
"Read question ten. I can't believe it!"  
Harry did as he was told and sighed a deep breath of relief. "This is too good to be true."  
Fred let out a negative sound. "That's because you still have to choose who you're going to marry, and I don't know about you, 'Mione, but I'm running pretty short on options here."

Hermione shrunk into her chair, her previous excitement gone. Harry had it alright; Ginny was his destined choice. Hermione had been too busy focusing on her academic success during her adolescence to be popular amongst boys.

"One thing at a time," Harry said hesitantly. "And our first problem is, what is our reason for applying?"

Hermione pursed her lips and wrote: _Partner had previous engagement plans; consider said partner to be my friend only; _

Fred looked over and saw Hermione's meagre excuses and scoffed. "You could at least use your hero status to persuade them a little bit," Fred said. Hermione declined.  
"That means I'm manipulating them, and that makes me no better than the ministry itself," Hermione said bluntly. Fred shrugged.  
"I guess you're excuses are better than mine," he chuckled, showing his answer. He had surprisingly neat writing.

_My partner has already dedicated herself to an international quidditch player. _

Hermione held back her laughter. "You're gonna need something better than that, Fred," she giggled, handing his form back. He nodded as he stretched.

"This is almost like doing homework," he groaned as his arms reached far above his head. They then fell back to his lap quickly. "And Merlin knows how much I hated doing that. I'm off to find George."

Fred stood and left the kitchen, taking his form with him. Hermione sighed deeply, catching Harry's attention.  
"I suppose there's no point in finishing this until I find out who I want to marry," Hermione said sadly. Harry looked at her sympathetically and reached over to pat her hand softly. His eyes glazed over like they always did when he was in deep thought.  
"What? What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked immediately. Harry shook his head slowly.  
"It doesn't matter. It was stupid," he said, quickly folding up his form into uneven thirds.  
"Tell me!" Hermione urged, her curiosity spiking with every passing second.

Harry ceased his movements, looking out the small kitchen window instead. "It's stupid and crazy," he began slowly, "But why don't you marry Fred?"  
Hermione balked. Whatever she had been expecting Harry to say, that definitely wasn't it. "I don't know, Harry," Hermione replied nervously. "We're not really alike…"  
"But you're not exactly enemies either," Harry pointed out. "And he's way better than any other choice you have. Plus, you'd still be part of the family and we wouldn't have to lose you."

Harry's voice trailed into a murmur as if he was embarrassed to admit he was afraid Hermione would leave. Hermione was far too preoccupied to notice, however; she was looking in the direction of the door Fred had exited through, not really seeing anything.

She tried to picture a life with Fred, and to her surprise, it didn't come up blank. Hermione could see herself in the back room of WWW making potions and inventions with a laughing Fred, and also working at the ministry. She could imagine spending her nights at the flat, and talking to Fred about her day over dinner. George would come over too, sometimes with and other times without Angelina.

Most importantly of all, when Hermione pictured herself walking down the aisle, she could see Fred waiting for her at the end.

Hermione came back into reality with a shake of her head. "I don't know, Harry," she repeated. "Why would Fred ever want to marry me? There are so many other girls to choose from."  
Harry smirked, an expression Hermione hadn't seen in quite a while. "Hermione, you really don't see yourself the way many others do, do you? You're not exactly the ugliest girl around."  
"I'm not exactly the prettiest, either," Hermione muttered, folding up her form up into perfect thirds too.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, 'Mione, I'm not saying that you should. But it's probably an option you should consider. Besides the fact that he's way better than, say, Malfoy," Here, Hermione screwed up her nose in disgust, "You have twenty four hours to fill the form out before it explodes."  
"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "How do you know that?"  
"It's in the fine print," Harry chanted, ducking out of the room while Hermione was distracted.

Hermione groaned loudly when she saw that Harry was indeed telling the truth and, in a moment of pure desperation, slammed her quill onto the table so hard it snapped.

Surprised that she had let her emotions get the best of her, Hermione decided that sitting at the table allowing herself to be overcome with panic was definitely not a good idea. She stood with the intention of finding Ginny, but realised that she would be with Harry. Ron was not an option, since Hermione knew he had gone out to visit Lavender today.

She really only had one option.

Leaving her quill on the table, Hermione set off up the stairs. Hermione wasn't a naturally heavy footed person so her footsteps were light as she climbed. She reached the twins' door and, without knocking, threw it open.

"… you marry her-" Hermione looked up in time to see George clamp his mouth shut quickly. She quirked her eyebrow suspiciously.  
"I figured I was welcome enough to not have to knock by now," Hermione said by way of an explanation for her sudden appearance.  
"You're always welcome here, Hermione!" George said earnestly.  
"But it's probably safer to knock first," Fred said cheekily. Hermione smiled at them and shut the door, accidentally crinkling her perfectly folded form. She swore out loud.

"You know we only have twenty four hours to fill out these damn things?" Hermione said crossly, sitting herself on the small stool.  
"I'm not sure what I'm more shocked about… you swearing more times in the last minute than I've ever heard you do in your life, or that you read the fine print," George said in an astounded tone. Fred chuckled.  
"I'm not all that shocked about the fine print, Gred," Fred said with a smirk. George shrugged.  
"Actually, Harry read it and told me," Hermione said indignantly.  
"I truly am shocked now," Fred said, sharing a grin with his twin.

Hermione bit her lip. "Were you guys talking about the swap?" she asked anxiously, dampening the cheerful mood that had accommodated the room. Fred and George swapped significant looks.  
"Yeah," Fred replied hesitantly.  
"But if we've only got twenty four hours, we might have to make a decision pretty fast," George said directly to Fred. Hermione didn't understand what George was saying, and decided to remain silent.

That was, until Fred decided to bring her into the conversation.

"Have you finished filling out your form yet?"  
"No," Hermione asked, blushing only slightly. "Harry distracted me with the twenty four hour thing."  
"Yeah, we heard him running up the stairs," George chuckled.  
Fred was frowning. "Who are you going to choose, then?"  
"I don't know," Hermione whispered, looking at her fingers. "You?"

George leapt off his bed whooping, then tackled Fred on his bed. "I told you she'd make the first move!" George yelled happily. "Five Galleons, then! Pay up!"

Fred threw George off his bed, blushing from his hair roots to his neck. "George," he said sternly, "She was asking me the question in return."  
George's jaw dropped. A small gasp fell from his lips. "Whoops," he whispered. "Guess the cat's outta the bag!"

Hermione was sitting mortified on the stool, unsure whether to embarrassed, indignant, or amused. Fred was avoiding Hermione's eye, glaring at George.

"Harry suggested it earlier too," Hermione murmured, observing a picture of Fred and George outside the front of WWW on its opening day. The two had identical wide grins, their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders.

"How bad could it possibly be?" George asked rhetorically.


	8. Chapter 8

**Fred's POV, because I thought it would be interesting seeing the previous scene in Fred's perspective.**

* * *

"This is almost like doing homework," Fred groaned as he stretched, reaching his arms far above his head. They then fell back to his lap quickly. "And Merlin knows how much I hated doing that. I'm off to find George."

Fred stood and left the kitchen, taking his form with him. He breathed a sigh of temporary relief, knowing that he'd have to finish that form sooner rather than later, and that meant he'd be sealing his fate. Fred shook off the dread which had seemed to become a permanent resident in his stomach. In the meantime, George would provide a good distraction.

George was sitting at the desk when Fred entered their bedroom, hunched over some paper of his own. Finances, no doubt. They would need to spend a hell of a lot of money to get the shop back up and running.

Unfortunately, George wasn't going to be as good a distraction as Fred hoped; George spun in his seat, giving Fred a look that meant he had something to say. Fred swung the door shut behind him, thumping onto his bed face first.

"Out with it, then." His voice was muffled which hid the tension Fred was feeling. That pleased him.

"She's your only option, mate," George said bluntly. Fred could hear him sit on his own squeaky bed. "You know she is."  
"Who?" Fred asked, hoping that by playing dumb George would be deterred from the topic. No such luck.  
"_Hermione, _of course!"

Fred moaned dramatically, flipping himself over on his bed. He rested an arm behind his head comfortably. George mirrored his actions.

"We'd never work."  
"Not true."  
"We're nothing alike."  
"Liar."  
"We're not even friends."  
"Yes you are."  
"She's always hated us."  
"She's hated our _products, _not us."  
"Whatever. She'd never cope with me."  
"She coped with Harry for seven years, Fred. I think she's pretty good at handling things."  
"I wouldn't even know how to go about asking her, anyhow."  
"Five galleons she'll ask you first!"  
"Deal." Fred then came to a mind-shattering thought. "Why would she want to marry me anyway?"  
"Because she's just as desperate as you are, and though you are the less attractive twin, you're not exactly a bad choice, mate."

Fred pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his eyes shut. "I don't want to get married, George," he whispered.  
"I know, mate. But look, it's practically settled. You can marry Her-"

The door flew open and to Fred's horror, Hermione flounced in, her crazy hair bouncing with each movement.

"I figured I was welcome enough to not have to knock by now," Hermione said softly, looking slightly surprised. Fred fixed a smile on his face.  
"You're always welcome here, Hermione!" George said enthusiastically.  
"But it's probably safer to knock first," Fred added. Hermione smiled at them and shut the door, releasing a swear. Fred exchanged confused looks with George whilst her back was turned.

"You know we only have twenty four hours to fill out these damn things?" Hermione said crossly, straightening out a crinkled bit of pink paper Fred recognised as the swap form.  
"I'm not sure what I'm more shocked about… you swearing more times in the last minute than I've ever heard you do in your life, or that you read the fine print," George said in an astounded tone.

Fred couldn't stop himself from releasing a chuckle. "I'm not all that shocked about the fine print, Gred," Fred said with a smirk, referring to Hermione's bookworm tendencies. George shrugged in reply.  
"Actually, Harry read it and told me," Hermione said, straightening her posture on the stool she sat on.  
"I truly am shocked now," Fred said, sharing a grin with his twin. George had an _I told you so _expression, which Fred knew referred to the easy banter that came between him and Hermione.

Fred watched Hermione bite her lip. "Were you guys talking about the swap?" she asked shyly. Fred and George shared significant looks, Fred thinking that he couldn't get away from the bloody topic.  
"Yeah," Fred replied hesitantly. He truly didn't want to go down this path once again, but his desire to know what Hermione had to say overruled his inhibitions.  
"But if we've only got twenty four hours, we might have to make a decision pretty fast," George said directly to Fred, blatantly ignoring Hermione and referring to her in the same sentence.

A split second was all it took for Fred to decide. Knowing that Hermione liked to be prepared, and had probably given the dreaded decision more thought than he could ever dream of, Fred had to know if she'd chosen someone. If she had, that narrowed down his options quickly.

To be honest, it completely eradicated his options, but he needed to know immediately. He decided to bring it up gradually.

"Have you finished filling out your form yet?"  
"No," Hermione asked, blushing pink. "Harry distracted me with the twenty four hour thing."  
"Yeah, we heard him running up the stairs," George chuckled. Fred promised himself he'd go make sure he and Ginny weren't doing any indecent activity soon.

Fred mentally prepared himself for the rejection. Now was the moment that would change his life, and damn it, he wasn't ready. He forced himself to choke out the words, "Who are you going to choose, then?"  
"I don't know," Hermione whispered in reply, breaking eye contact with him. "You?"

George leapt off his bed whooping, then tackled Fred on his bed. "I told you she'd make the first move!" George yelled happily. "Five Galleons, then! Pay up!"

Horrified and embarrassed, Fred used all of his strength to throw George off his bed and onto the floor. He could feel his face burning.  
"George, she was asking me the question in return," Fred said through clenched teeth. He watched George's face go from overjoyed to shock.

"Whoops," George whispered. "Guess the cat's outta the bag!"

Fred winced then settled for glaring at George who was making himself comfortable back on his bed. He would very much like to throttle George at that exact moment, but then realised that would be inappropriate with a lady in the room.

"Harry suggested it earlier too," Hermione murmured, making Fred's heart leap. She was looking at the wall, but Fred was too relieved to wonder about the specifics. She'd all but said yes! Could it really have been this easy?

"How bad could it possibly be?" George asked rhetorically.

Fred sent a withering look at his twin. Every time one of them had said that damned phrase, something terrible went wrong.

"Er… touch wood," George added hurriedly, touching his bed head quickly. Hermione had a small smile gracing her lips, which were nicely shaped Fred noticed. He also noticed George looked rather pleased with himself.  
"What are you so happy about?" Fred demanded. George shrugged nonchalantly.  
"Shall I tell mum the news or would you like the honour?" George asked professionally. He looked so strikingly like Percy that Fred let out a bark of laughter.

"Excuse me, but I wasn't aware we'd even came to a decision," Hermione interjected, crossing her legs at the knee. "And beyond that, I haven't even said yes!"

Fred and George exchanged looks. They were so used to not having to say every word, knowing what the other was thinking so perfectly, that both had quite forgotten Hermione had her own (and possibly very different) opinions. But if she had been so against the decision, surely she'd have said something?

"Well, are you going to?" Fred asked, nervousness settling in his stomach quicker than he would have thought imaginable. Butterflies, his mum would have said.  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are you going to ask me properly?" she demanded. Fred sighed.  
"Shall I get on one knee, too?" he asked sarcastically, already getting off the bed.

He never sold himself short after all, and theatrics were his area of expertise.

"Hermione Granger," Fred began, making himself comfortable on one knee in front of her. A pretty blush appeared on her face when Fred reached for her hand, covering it with his own. "Would do me the honour… of being my swap partner for this marriage law?"  
Hermione's jaw dropped into a little 'o'. "Ask me properly!" she cried, a smile hinting at the curves of her lips.

Fred could feel rather than hear George rolling on his bed laughing. Restraining an eye roll, Fred simply shook his head.

"Hermione Granger, will you please marry me?" Fred asked as normally as possible; a rather difficult thing to do when it felt like his heart was in his throat. Hermione beamed down at him and the pressure lessened a little.  
"Yes," she murmured. She then rose her voice, declaring "Crisis averted!"  
Fred returned to his bed in relief. "Crisis definitely averted," he muttered to himself.

George was looking at the pair with a proud look on his face. "My babies, all grown up!" he sighed, pretending to dab his eyes dry. Fred threw a pillow at his favourite brother's face. "Well, let's go tell the family!"

Standing up and expecting everyone else to do the same, George led the way to the door. He paused momentarily when he saw no one followed.  
"Aren't you coming?" he asked. Fred shook his head, waving his pink form in the air.  
"Better fill this blasted form out first," he explained.  
George pursed his lips. "Well, you have fun with that," he said, then ducked out of the room quickly.

"Can I borrow a quill? Mine's downstairs," Hermione asked, coming over to sit on the edge of Fred's bed. Fred nodded and quickly wrote _Hermione Granger _for question ten.

"You know that this might all be for nothing, don't you?" Hermione reminded him as she wrote on her own form. Fred flinched.  
"I actually forgot," he admitted. "Just figured this was it, you know?"  
"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "It's easy to get caught up in things, I suppose."  
"Yeah," Fred replied.

Hermione took a deep breath at the same time as Fred, making him chuckle.  
"You go first," he said kindly, when Hermione sent him a questioning look. She swallowed quietly.  
"Fred, you don't have to marry me if you don't want to," she said really quietly – so quietly, Fred almost didn't hear her. "I know I'm not exactly a catch."

Fred couldn't help himself. He laughed.

Hermione gave him a dirty look and almost stood up before Fred forced her down. "No, I'm sorry, really. I'm just laughing because that's exactly what I was going to say," Fred smiled, unbelieving that the Gryffindor Princess would have such a low opinion of herself.  
"You're very desirable, Fred," Hermione said predictably, in Fred's opinion. He knew that Hermione was always quick to reassure. "Any girl would be lucky to have you as their own."  
"And any decent man would recognise you're quite a catch," Fred complimented truthfully. Hermione tilted her head forward, using her curls to hide her face, and though Fred didn't know it, her smile.

After a moment, Hermione stood abruptly. "I suppose we should send these back to the ministry," she said. Fred stood as well.  
"I suppose we should," he echoed.

* * *

**A/N: My updates may seem a little too frequent or whatever, so for the record I have a system where for every chapter I write, I update one. I've currently just finished writing Chapter 20. Yes, this is a relatively slow-moving fic.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Dedicated to SilentFlame13, who's enthusiastic reviews encouraged me to post this chapter a little earlier than intended.**

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**Hermione's POV**

The trip to the ministry was rather uneventful. The forms had to be placed in a tray at reception, which seemed simple enough, but Hermione thought it rather amusing that the tray was overflowing with forms. She left hers, Harry's, Ginny's and Fred's forms neatly folded underneath the others so they wouldn't get lost.

She returned to the Burrow to find the whole family gathered at the kitchen table eating lunch. Hermione sat opposite Fred and helped herself to the food.

"Congratulations on the engagement, dear," Mrs Weasley said once Hermione took a bite of her food. "I'm so pleased to have you as part of the family."  
Hermione nearly choked on her food when she swallowed quickly. "Oh, uh, it's not official yet, Mrs Weasley," Hermione coughed, her eyes watering.  
"What? What's going on?" Ron asked through his own mouthful of meat. Hermione barely hid her wince.  
"I chose Fred to be swapped to for the Marriage Law," Hermione said strongly, almost daring Ron to cause a ruckus about it.

The youngest male Weasley chewed his food slowly while he thought. "So that means that, if it goes through, Harry will be able to marry Ginny," Ron surmised. Hermione gave a stiff nod. "I wonder what they're gonna do with Katie Bell, then. Didn't you say Oliver was out of the country, Fred?"

And that was it. Ron obviously couldn't care less, and Hermione couldn't have been more pleased. Fred also seemed a bit surprised at Ron's acceptance but took it into his stride. They discussed the possibility of Katie also being exempt from the law, Ginny remarking on how amusing it would be if they partnered her up with Dean Thomas.

Lunch then passed without affair, the table much cheerier than they had been the day before. Mrs Weasley expressed her pleasure at having Hermione in the family once again, patting her cheek softly as the table emptied. As usual, Hermione's offer to help clear the table was denied, so she was left to do her own thing.

The others had decided to play a game of quidditch, so Hermione had the house to herself. Grabbing the first book she felt in her beaded bag, Hermione didn't look at the cover until she made herself comfortable in the sitting room.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

Hermione simply fiddled with the cover whilst she relived the memories of being in hiding, pouring over this book in hopes of finding something, anything that would help them. She remembered feeling hatred and disappointment towards Dumbledore. She felt the loneliness that had accompanied Hermione the last time she read this book.

Hermione also felt the joy that encompassed her entire body when she worked out Dumbledore's riddle, and the honour and pride that ran through her blood when she discovered Dumbledore left it in his will specifically for her. She could easily remember Ron's pride at knowing about something Hermione had never heard of. She could clearly recall the magic of reading wizarding fairy-tales for the first time, and could remember herself comparing them to muggle ones.

There were too many memories that accompanied this book, but Hermione didn't put it away. Instead, she opened to a random page and began reading.

Hermione was just finishing _Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump _when she realised she had company.

"Wow. You really do go into your own little world when you read, don't you?" Fred asked from the armchair. Hermione blinked owlishly at him.  
"It's not my world, Fred. It's theirs," Hermione said wistfully, gesturing to the book. "Books are entirely different worlds waiting to be explored. It's hard _not _to get caught up in them."  
Fred observed Hermione carefully before speaking again. "You really mean that, don't you?" he realised. "You truly believe that reading is an escape and not a chore."  
"Why would it be a chore?" Hermione replied with a smile.  
"I guess I've just had bad experiences with books," he chuckled to himself. Hermione gave him a knowing look.  
"That's what happens when the only books you touch are from the Restricted Section," she teased, closing her book and giving Fred her full attention. "What can I do for you?"

Fred lost his grin immediately, turning his head to look at the empty fireplace. "Do you think our applications will be accepted, 'Mione?" he asked quietly. "I don't know what I'm gonna do if they don't."  
"You and me both, kid," Hermione quoted him. Fred's lips twitched.  
"Hermione," Fred began seriously, "Are you sure you're okay with being paired with me? If it does go through, I mean."

Hermione took the time to think seriously about her answer. "I think that I got remarkably lucky having you as a willing option," Hermione said, looking at the threads of the tightly woven rug beneath her feet. "I'd much prefer you than Harry… or any other guy for that matter… so I suppose that makes you my first choice." Hermione inwardly winced at that last bit, and quickly rectified it. "I mean, not that I want to have to choose, but… Stop laughing, Fred, I'm trying to be sincere!"

Fred tried to compose himself appropriately. "It was a yes or no question, Hermione," Fred chuckled, making Hermione frown.  
"Are you okay with being paired with me?" Hermione asked in return. Fred smirked.  
"I think I got remarkably lucky," he mocked.  
"Glad that's settled then."

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence. The empty fireplace was filled with ash, and Hermione had the sudden urge to light a large, warm fire there. A strange homesickness washed through her body for the Gryffindor common room, and for her own family's hearth. Hermione shook herself out of her reverie. Depression didn't suit her.

"Not interested in playing quidditch today?" Hermione asked Fred, clasping her hands in her lap. Fred grinned guiltily.  
"No," he said simply. The sparkle in his eye and the curve of his lips made Hermione incredibly intrigued.  
"What are you hiding?" she asked curiously. Fred suddenly appeared innocent.  
"Well, besides the fact that I thought I should probably get used to talking to my future wife," he said, only wincing slightly at his words, "Which I assure you is an utmost priority, I may have upgraded Ron's broom a bit."  
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "And by upgraded you mean…"  
"Upgraded," Fred repeated firmly.  
"Tampered with," Hermione countered.

At that moment, the back door swung open roughly, banging into the wall with such force it echoed throughout the room. Ron stormed inside with his broom in his hand, heading straight for Fred who was already laughing in his chair.

It wasn't until Ron had passed Hermione that she realised he was covered in bird poop.

"What have you done?" Ron fumed, towering over Fred. He was laughing too hard to answer, so Ron continued on his rant. "Turning the bristles _purple _when I'm flying? Conjuring _pigeons _whenever I swerve?"  
"Thought it was quite a brilliant piece of magic, myself."

George came sauntering into the sitting room with Harry and Ginny behind him. He leaned against the door frame, sent a wink in Hermione's direction, and gave Ron his full attention.

"I thought it would brighten up your flight," Fred said as sincerely as he could manage, trying with visible effort not to smile. "The birds were supposed to sing, not poop."  
Ron frowned deeply. "Well, they didn't," he said grumpily.  
"Come to think of it, I didn't mean to conjure pigeons, either," Fred said thoughtfully. Ron rolled his eyes and thumped down on the couch beside Hermione.

"Let me clean you up," Hermione said immediately, getting out her wand. Ron turned around obediently, showing her the extent of the damage on his back. Hermione crinkled her nose.

"You need to work on your charm work, Fred," she said in distaste. With one last flick of her wand, Ron's back was clear from poop, and he didn't even smell bad. She allowed herself a satisfied grin before turning to give Fred a stern look. He looked amused.

"That's something you can help me improve on when we spend more time together," Fred said casually, turning horizontal in the armchair to rest his legs over the arm. He made the movement look graceful and comfortable, when Hermione would willingly bet anything that it wasn't.

"Why would you need to spend more time together?" Ron asked curiously.  
"Because they're getting married, Ron," Ginny said impatiently, sitting in front of the dead fire. Harry sat next to Ron, smiling at Ginny softly.  
"So?"  
"So it's kind of important to know the person you're marrying before you marry them," Fred said with a roll of his eyes.  
"But you've known each other since… Hermione, when did you first meet the family? Just before third year, right? That's like, pushing five years," Ron said slowly, doing the math on his fingers. Hermione smiled.  
"Oh, Ron," she sighed, leaning into his shoulder. "Five years doesn't automatically equate to friendship."

Ron still looked confused, but he didn't push the subject any further. Harry had a mischievous grin on his face.  
"Maybe you should, er, go get to know Lavender?" Harry suggested, clapping Ron on the back. Ron looked unconvinced.  
"I dated her," he said unsurely, "isn't that alright? That's better than friendship."  
"Honestly, Ronald, what's her favourite colour?" Ginny demanded. Realisation dawned on Ron's face.  
"Perhaps I should go get to know her better," he said hurriedly. Ron nodded his goodbye and quickly left the room to apparate outside. George sniggered as Ron exited the room.  
"Get to know her tongue, more like," he said quietly, making both Ginny and Hermione gag. Harry at least wore an amused smile and Fred high-fived his twin.

"So when are you next going into the shop?" Hermione asked Fred conversationally, looking into the kitchen. It was empty, so Hermione had a clear view of the window.  
"Probably in a couple days," Fred said, looking to his twin to confirm. "Need to get this marriage rubbish sorted with first."

Hermione vaguely nodded her head and Harry took up the conversation, reminding them of his offer to fund the products… or the opening... whatever it was, it wasn't important enough to occupy Hermione's mind. There was something heading towards the window.

It seemed everything went into slow motion as Hermione stood, ignoring Harry's questioning. Hermione's mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Surely it wouldn't be a letter from the ministry? She'd only dropped the forms off that morning, after all. Hermione was at the kitchen table when four letters flew through the window. Either her eyes were deceiving her or they really were there in front of her.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, but she needn't say anything louder for he was right behind her, ready to support her. She reached out for the letter with her name on it with shaking hands.

"The letters are here!" Ginny shrieked.


	10. Chapter 10

Ginny's shriek made Hermione drop her letter on the table once more, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from sending Ginny a dirty look, who thankfully didn't see. Harry rubbed Hermione's lower back in small circles soothingly, Fred appearing on her right side. He had a grave expression on his face.

"Shall we wait for Mrs Weasley?" Hermione asked in trepidation. Fred shook his head.  
"I need to know now," he whispered, ripping into his letter. Hermione followed suit.

_To Miss Hermione Granger,_

_Your letter of application for a swap of partners in regards to the Marriage Decree has been accepted. Your new partner is Mr Fred Weasley._

_Regards,  
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic,  
The Ministry of Magic._

The letter was incredibly short and Hermione's eyes glazed over as she read it twice. A surprised stupor settled over Hermione; her eyes locked with Fred's incredulous ones. Hermione took a hesitant step towards him, almost taking him in for a hug, but chickened out at the last second. She turned to Harry instead.

"Accepted," he breathed, still staring at his letter.  
"Finally something's gone right," Hermione joked, rubbing his shoulder gently. Harry sent her a small smile.

Ginny then appeared at his side, her eyes bright with excitement and joy. She didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around Harry tightly, an action Hermione envied greatly. She stepped back to give the happy couple more room since they had now started to sway.

Hermione stepped on the toes of Fred accidentally, who let out a surprised shout. She blushed profusely and turned to apologise quickly. Fred was rubbing his toe dramatically.

"You broke my toe!" he accused playfully. Hermione gasped.  
"Excuse you! I'm not that heavy!"  
"My toe begs to differ!"

Hermione scowled at her new fiancé. Merlin, what a strange thought that was. Hermione briefly wondered what sort of train she'd gotten herself onto this time.

Mrs Weasley burst into the kitchen, seeing Harry and Ginny (who were still in each other's arms) and Fred and Hermione (who were standing apart).  
"Accepted?" she guessed hopefully. The four nodded simultaneously and Mrs Weasley let out a shriek of glee. She hurried around the table to envelope Hermione in her arms tightly. "I always wanted you as part of the family," Mrs Weasley gushed as she moved on to Harry. "Oh, happy days! This is a cause for celebration! A feast for dinner!"

Both Harry and Hermione immediately declined.  
"Mrs Weasley, no," Harry said half-heartedly. He knew it wasn't worth arguing with the Weasley matriarch once she wanted to cook.  
"A feast is far too much," Hermione agreed vehemently. Mrs Weasley shook her head.  
"Nonsense."  
"How about a really good cake for dessert instead?" Ginny suggested meekly.

Hermione actually thought Ginny had convinced Mrs Weasley when she suddenly said, "I'd forgotten about dessert, actually. A cake sounds good. Everybody out of the kitchen!"

The four trampled out obediently. George had taken up residence in the armchair Fred was sitting on previously. He was wearing an expectant expression.  
"Party or gathering?" he asked sarcastically.  
"Feast," Fred shrugged.

Harry and Ginny quietly left the sitting room, moving back outside hand in hand. Hermione placed herself at the end of the couch, resting her head on her hand.

"We need to get back to work," George said thoughtfully. "Now that everything's all sorted."  
"It's only July," Fred reminded his twin. "That's two months until school starts."  
"Two months isn't that long," Hermione jutted in. George ran his hands through his long hair roughly, leaving it matted and messy.  
"The sooner we open up the better," he groaned. "Angie's coming to the shop tomorrow to clean up, what are you guys gonna do? Products or handiwork?"

Fred glanced at Hermione, who shrugged in answer. Fred sighed at her uselessness. "Well, if the family goes to the shop with you tomorrow, we'd be better off doing stock," Fred pointed out. George nodded his head in understanding.

"Why don't we go get a bit of work done at the shop now?" Hermione suggested. "A little bit before dinner couldn't hurt."  
George beamed. "That'd be great, 'Mione."  
"Actually wouldn't be a bad idea," Fred mused. "I need to get some more supplies anyway."

Hermione smiled and stood, smoothing her shirt down. "Meet back here in ten?"

The twins nodded and Hermione left. A quick change of clothes – into some older clothes that she didn't mind getting dirty – and braiding her hair back as best she could, Hermione returned to the lounge. Fred and George followed shortly after, also in older clothes.

"We've put the wards down so you can apparate straight in," Fred informed her as they headed outside. Hermione nodded her understanding.  
"But only around the back room," George added. "Don't want anyone breaking in during these precious minutes!"  
"Definitely a likely scenario," Hermione said solemnly, earning herself a chuckle from both of the twins. They had reached the Burrow's wards. "See you there, then."

Twisting, Hermione felt the pulling tug from her abdomen, the crushing of her lungs as she struggled to draw breath, then landed on firm ground. She wasn't sure if Fred and George arrived before her or at the same time, but they were there in the backroom.

The newly concreted floor was unmarked and clean, as were the plastered walls. Inbuilt shelves rested on the walls, some simple surfaces and others designed as square compartments. Hermione had thought that square compartments would be better for ingredients because it lessens the chances of them falling off onto the floor. There were three desks in the room; one for bookwork, one for ingredient preparation and another for spellwork and just in case they needed an extra surface. The twins were yet to bring in their cauldrons which most of the floor space was dedicated to. There were also a few windows near the roof in case experiments went wrong and smoke erupted.

"There aren't any dangerous objects in the shop still, are there?" Hermione asked the twins. They shrugged, opening the door to the main entry.  
"Who knows what happened to them after the damage occurred," Fred said. "You know that spells can become more potent over time."  
"But we cleaned most of them out, so it should be safe," George assured her. "Just don't touch anything if you're not sure about it."  
Hermione looked at the rubble on the ground, seeing scraps of products all over the floor. "I think I'll just get rid of the rubble," she said after a moment, earning a chuckle from one of the twins.

Setting about in her work, Hermione used a vanishing spell to get rid of the broken products. Peruvian Darkness Powder was scattered in crumbs over the ground, releasing little black puffs of smoke every time Hermione shifted her weight. It tainted her shoes black.

The twins were standing at the windows, trying to make them tinted so onlookers couldn't watch. They had succeeded in making them dark blue, light green, and red previously; the windows were currently a deep purple tint. That was when Hermione stupidly tried to vanish half a firework.

Hermione didn't remember that trying to vanish a firework only duplicated it; she thought that since it was broken in half and wasn't alight it would simply disappear. It appeared she was mistaken.

The firework started fizzling and wiggling on the floor. Hermione backed away immediately, calling out a warning to the twins, who joined her in amusement. The firework's hissing noise increased until it filled Hermione's ears, then with a loud _pop_ duplicated. The new firework began hissing too, and duplicated once more. Then again, and a last time. The hissing noise now unbearable, Hermione and the twins were as close to the front door as they could get with their hands over their ears. All at once, the half-sized fireworks burst into the air, whizzing about the room with tangible energy, leaving fire sparks in their wake. They dissipated by the time they hit the dusty floor.

After the fireworks set off the loud noises disappeared and was replaced with silence. George began chuckling as he watched the silent show.  
"Maybe we should invent silent fireworks," he suggested, "They're a bit… different."  
"A bit ridiculous, more like," Fred returned, narrowing his eyes on a firework. "What good are fireworks if they aren't noisily deafening?"  
"Which is why we would call them the Silent Show Surprise," George invented quickly, trying to snatch a firework out of the air to look at. "People will have to buy them to see how crappy they are!"  
Fred rolled his eyes at his brother's marketing schemes. With a last fleeting look at the zooming fireworks, he tugged Hermione's hand forward and the three returned to the back room.  
"I wonder if they'll last twice as long because they're half a normal firework," Fred mused, making George hum thoughtfully. "Well, there's no point trying to get any work done with those fireworks around, they'll just bugger everything up."

Fred and George sighed sadly together, making Hermione wince.  
"I'm really sorry," she said quietly, hanging her head. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't remember they'd duplicate."  
"Aw, it's alright Hermione," George said, sounding ashamed. An arm wound around Hermione's shoulder and with a jolt, she realised it was Fred's.  
"We're not blaming you," Fred assured her. "There's plenty of time to clean up, anyway."  
Hermione leaned into Fred's side briefly, then pulled away. "I'm still sorry. Like you said, those fireworks might last twice as long."  
"They'll be gone by tomorrow no matter what," George said with a promising smile.  
Hermione still felt bad for interrupting the brief clean up session, but smiled back nonetheless. "Let's head home, yeah?"

The boys nodded their agreement and they apparated back to the Burrow. The twins were waving their wands absentmindedly as they walked through the extensive gardens back to the house; it took a while for Hermione to realise they were putting the wards back up. Impressed at their multitasking, Hermione remained silent while they concentrated.

Inside the house wasn't much louder. It seemed as if a blanket had been put over the entire building, muffling all the sounds Hermione had become so accustomed to. Curious at the lack of noise, Hermione entered the kitchen with the twins behind her.

The rest of the Weasley clan were sitting quietly at the kitchen table, murmuring to each other. At first Hermione didn't realise that anything was different, until she heard Fred and George chorus a greeting.

Kingsley was sitting at the head of the table.


	11. Chapter 11

"I know that I shouldn't play favourites," Kingsley was saying in his deep gravelly voice. "But you should know that people have already begun booking ministers for their weddings."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Of course, she had to plan a wedding. One year to make the marriage official, and three years beyond that to have children. How could she have forgotten?

"I would suggest that you hurry along and pick a date for your weddings and contact the ministry as soon as possible to see if they can provide a minister," Kingsley continued. "Unless you wanted to do it the muggle way, which is accepted as an official marriage by the ministry," he added for Hermione's benefit, who immediately shook her head.

"Hey," Fred murmured. "If you want to do it the muggle way, that's fine. I don't mind."  
Hermione smiled softly. "No, I really don't. I'm a witch, and I want to be recognised as one."

Their conversation went unnoticed. Mrs Weasley was talking to Ginny and Harry about a spring wedding, the former of which looked rather lost, and Mr Weasley was discussing ministry matters with Kingsley and Percy in low voices. Fred turned to George.

"Angelina organising your wedding, then?" he asked with a smirk. George rolled his eyes.  
"I'm waiting to see how long it'll take for her to ask us to be married on a quidditch pitch," he joked, making Fred laugh.  
"I think Harry and Ginny will beat you to it," Hermione interjected, tilting her head towards the happy couple. They eavesdropped on their conversation.

"We could have it at Hogwarts, Harry," Ginny gushed. "I know how much that place means to you. We could have it on the quidditch pitch!"  
Harry tugged at his collar nervously. "Uh, yeah, but we could have it here as well. I mean, this is like my home too."  
Mrs Weasley let out an adoring sigh, getting up to hug Harry tightly. Fred and George struggled to hide their sniggers.

"Where are you two gonna hold it, then?" George asked. Hermione looked to Fred, who shrugged.  
"I have no idea," Hermione said. "There's plenty of places to pick from, of course. I've always liked France, but I suppose it's a bit unreasonable to ask all our invites to fly internationally, and the language barrier would be an issue as well. I'm not religious, either, so it wouldn't feel right holding my wedding at a church…" Hermione realised that she didn't know if Fred was religious or not, and felt ridiculous for having to ask him. "Unless you're religious, Fred?"

With a smirk, Fred simply shook his head. "Plenty of time to stress about it later," he said with a wave of his hand. "What's your favourite number?"  
"Twenty one," Hermione replied immediately. Fred raised his brows at her curiously. "That's when you come of age in the muggle world."  
"Really?" Fred mused. "Seems a long time to wait."  
"It changes throughout the states, but that's generally the accepted age of adulthood," Hermione added unnecessarily. Fred nodded understandingly.  
"And the muggle age of adulthood is so important to you because…" he continued. Embarrassed, Hermione looked down at her fingers.  
"I never thought I'd live to see my twenty first birthday."

When Fred didn't reply, Hermione looked up to see him appearing slightly guilty.

"I guess that was a stupid thing to ask," he winced. Hermione shrugged.  
"It's okay. How were you supposed to know?"  
"I should have been able to figure it out," Fred insisted. A mischievous glint shone in his eyes. "But, you're not twenty one yet, are you?"  
"Twenty in September," Hermione sniffed.  
"Twenty one in April," Fred replied, as if it was something to be jealous of. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

Ignoring her immaturity, Fred brought George back into the conversation by asking him about Angelina, and Hermione's attention drifted to Harry. She couldn't imagine sitting at a table, drafting wedding plans with him. As it was, he looked a little pale. Hermione stood and walked over to him, resting her hand on his shoulder gently.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked softly. Harry nodded and immediately left the table, following Hermione into the lounge. She sat on the sofa, patting the cushion beside her. Harry sat obediently.

"You okay, 'Mione?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded.  
"It's all just a bit overwhelming though, isn't it?" she whispered. Harry agreed, resting an arm around her shoulders. Hermione huddled into his side. "Having a wedding before I'm even twenty one years old… what would my parents think?"  
Harry tightened his grip on her shoulders momentarily. "We'll go find them soon," he promised. "Once everything's sorted out."  
Hermione sighed. "Somehow I just don't think we'll ever get some peace," she admitted. Harry chuckled.  
"You're telling me. Now Mrs Weasley's got Ginny stuck on wedding plans, I won't hear the end of it. She's planning an evening wedding in summer, you know."  
"I always thought she was more of a winter person," Hermione mused.  
"She said she didn't want anyone drawing references from her hair to a warm fire in winter, or something along those lines," Harry laughed. Hermione joined in, moving away from Harry to sit up straight. At that moment, Ron ventured inside; Hermione gestured for him to join them on the couch. He did so.  
"You'll be alright, Harry," Hermione said. "Ginny will plan everything if you wanted her to."  
"I'd like to have a say in my wedding," Harry said firmly. "It'll be a nice change to have a say in some part of my future."

His sarcastic comment made Hermione and Ron laugh.

"I dunno, mate. I'm letting Lavender plan it all," Ron said easily. "Merlin knows she's been planning it since she was eight."  
"Ron," Hermione scolded disapprovingly.  
"What? I'm serious. She told me so herself!" Ron gave a lopsided grin. "I don't mind. If she's happy, I'm happy. She wants to hold it in November though, so I guess we'll see how that goes."

Hermione patted Ron on the shoulder consolingly. "We'll get you some nice dress robes this time," she said in a sincere tone. It took Harry a moment to realise what she was referring to, but when he figured it out he let out an ugly snort, making Hermione lose her composure and start giggling. Ron gave the two a scornful look, obviously understanding.

"Very funny, you two," he said sarcastically. "And I'll try not to ruin your evening on your wedding, 'Mione."  
Hermione let out a brief chuckle. "Merlin, that was so long ago," she murmured. Harry and Ron agreed quietly.  
"Can't say I ever thought I'd survive long enough to get married," Harry said honestly. "I'm not sure if I'm relieved that it's happening or annoyed that I'm being forced into it."

Ron reached behind Hermione to clap Harry on the back. "Well, I'm glad you're here, mate," Ron said awkwardly. "How about some chess before dinner, eh?"


	12. Chapter 12

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Ron wasn't around much since Lavender was determined to have a November wedding, so he spent most of his time going over the plans with her. Ginny spoke a lot of her wedding with the females of the house, but cleverly dropped the subject whenever Harry entered the room; she knew Harry well enough to know that he was feeling overwhelmed with the events of his life.

Hermione hadn't really discussed wedding plans with Fred; besides the one hour every Friday night they set aside to talk about it, they had been busy alternating between cleaning the shop, making products, and helping out at Hogwarts, which will be back to brand new mid-July and ready to open September. Fred and George were aiming to open WWW on the last week of July before school returned.

Fred had only said that he wanted to hold the wedding on the twenty first of April, since twenty one was Hermione's favourite number and April was his favourite month. It was two months before the year limit of the Marriage Decree. Seeing no flaws in the plan, Hermione readily agreed.

Hermione had, of course, drawn up a few drafts of what she didn't want, all of which Fred had agreed with. They were now going over Hermione's latest ideas of what she liked.

"An evening wedding?" Fred asked doubtfully. "Be a bit dark, won't it?"  
"We would light it up," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "And as you can see in the note I wrote on the bottom of the page, the actual wedding itself will be just after sunset so there's enough light to see, but no direct sunlight on us. It would just be the reception in the dark."  
Fred nodded his head slowly. "That sounds alright. Let's put it in the 'maybe' pile. Can we have fireworks at the end?"

Hermione opened her mouth to immediately deny him the chance to show off his products, but when she saw the hopeful look in his eyes, she didn't have the heart to say no. "Maybe," she said softly, shuffling the papers in front of her. Fred was rather gleeful for the rest of the session.

"Now, guests. I know that you love big crowds, but I'd rather a relatively small wedding," Hermione said in a business like tone, refusing to pay attention to the lump in her throat. Fred noticed how hard she was trying to remain aloof, however. He placed a hand over hers gently.  
"Hey, we can find your parents," he promised. "Once the shop is up and running, I'll have more time to help you search."  
"The shop will be so busy you'll need to go in every day," Hermione pointed out. "Look, it's alright. Harry's got people looking out for them internationally anyway, and I've got plenty of time to search for them. It's not a necessity for them to be there."  
Fred appraised her face carefully. "No, it's not a necessity," he agreed solemnly. "But you want them there, and that's important to me."

Tears glistened in Hermione's eyes but she refused to let them fall. "Is it really?"  
"Of course! I'm not daft, I know that girls dream of having her father walk her down the aisle," Fred said proudly. "So if you want them there, then while it may not be a necessity, it's important that they be there." Hermione hiccoughed a laugh.  
"I meant is my happiness really important to you?" Hermione mumbled. Red tinged Fred's face as he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.  
"Oh, well yeah, I mean, you're about to be my wife, Hermione," Fred stumbled, "It's important to me that we start our marriage off on the right foot."  
Hermione beamed at him. "You're very sweet, Fred."  
Fred flipped his hair back dramatically. "I know, Hermione, I know."

They returned to the plans, Fred offering his opinion more than Hermione thought he would. The two decided that having their wedding at the Burrow would be the easiest, safest idea, and neither Fred nor Hermione minded being wed at home. After a brief argument, Hermione realised that it was part of Fred's personality to be extravagant and flamboyant, and she couldn't deny him all his fun. Still, she said no to the colour-changing suit he wanted to wear.

Fred was making Hermione laugh at the idea of Crookshanks being the ring bearer, and being too grumpy to hand over the rings when George thumped inside. He stomped his boots at the entry of the door, kicking them off his feet dangerously. One shoe flew up so high it hit the door frame with a loud _thunk._

"What's got you in a mood?" Fred asked his twin, putting the wedding plans down. Hermione followed suit, sensing that their wedding hour was up. George let out an exasperated noise, slumping beside Fred at the table.

"Angie," George groaned. He rested his face on his arms. Fred and Hermione exchanged worried looks.  
"What about her?" Fred asked.  
Sitting up straight, George stared at Hermione for a long while before he said, "Hermione, you're a girl."  
Hermione waited for him to elaborate but upon hearing silence, Hermione commented, "Funny, your brother said that exact line to me in fourth year."  
George rolled his eyes. "I like to think that I'm a bit more observant that my dear brother. Anyhow, you're a girl, and you should understand what's going on."  
"Does it have to do with the wedding?" Fred asked teasingly. "Definitely wants to have it on a quidditch pitch, then?"  
"No," George said, nudging Fred harshly. "She wants _me_ to plan it all."

Hermione was at a loss as to why that was a big deal and why she should understand, but Fred seemed to understand, letting out a low whistle. "Not again, surely?" he asked.  
"Wait, what are you guys talking about?" Hermione interjected, feeling lost.

Fred looked at George for confirmation, who sighed and nodded his head. "Back in seventh year, George and Angelina got into a fight about the shop," he explained. "Angelina didn't believe we could really do it, and of course we couldn't tell her how we managed to achieve it all, so George copped the brunt of the _you're not prepared for the real world _lecture. So, Angie told him to prove her wrong, and do everything himself without outside help."  
"And that's what she's doing now?" Hermione guessed.  
"Her exact words were, 'if you think planning a wedding will be easy, you can bloody well plan it yourself'." George looked dejected for only a moment, before adding cheerfully, "Well at least it will be my type of wedding. And she can't get cross at me because I'm only doing what she told me to."

Fred and George exchanged mischievous smiles, already making plans for colours, fireworks, and maybe slipping in some new products into the food. Hermione had the strong urge to intervene and control the situation, since they weren't planning in any sort of order, but restrained herself. The twins had opened up a shop by themselves, after all.

"When are you going to have it?" Fred asked at last. George shrugged his shoulders, using the end of his quill to scratch his nose.  
"I don't know, I was thinking April."


	13. Chapter 13

It was July 31. Hogwarts had reopened, WWW was prepared for opening the next day, and today was Harry's birthday – an event Mrs Weasley was determined to celebrate. Harry was shying away from the spotlight, as expected, but the twins were continuously pulling him back in… and not always in a pleasant manner.

Dinner was no quiet event, despite Harry's loved ones being absent. Everyone was making an effort to keep him busy. Harry sat at the middle of the table, with Ginny opposite him, Ron on his left, and Hermione on his right. Lavender had come along at Ron's request and was sitting next to Ron, closest to Mrs Weasley. Mr Weasley sat at the head of the table, Bill and Fleur beside him, and Percy came too. George and Angelina sat between Percy and Fred, who was next to Hermione.

Harry was beaming at the filled table, observing his family. Ginny was making avid conversation with Fleur, waving her fork around as she spoke. George was teasing Percy about his glasses, making Angelina snigger into her hand. Fred kept poking Harry's side and blaming it on Hermione. The conversation was just getting deafening when Mr Weasley tapped his fork against his glass and stood.

"A toast!" he exclaimed. "To Mr Harry Potter, eighteen at last. My gratitude to you, Harry, could never be expressed in words, though Merlin knows we are indebted to you for protecting not just the Weasley family, but everybody else whether they were deserving or not," Mr Weasley finished. He held up his glass. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" The table chorused and tipped their glasses back. Fred and George stood, clearing their throats.  
"Oh no," Harry mumbled, sinking into his seat. Hermione chuckled and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

"Harry Potter, the boy who just won't die," George began grandly.  
"Merry eighteenth birthday," Fred took over. "We would just like to remind our favourite hero that we haven't forgotten Ginny is much younger than you-"  
"And we will be keeping a very close eye on you two," George said menacingly, making Ginny and Harry blush deep red. "On a more genuine note, however, we would also like to extend our thanks."  
"Without Harry, we would never have had the opportunity to open our shop," Fred admitted.  
"Without Harry, we would never have learnt how to cast a decent shield charm," George added. Ginny, Ron and Hermione held up their glasses in agreement.  
"Without Harry, we would probably have lost our favourite sister," Fred said.  
"I'm your only sister," Ginny pointed out, but she smiled all the same.

"The point, ladies and gentlemen, is that Harry has been far too successful, and far too helpful, in the last seven years of his life, and as a result we would like to blame all of our future problems on him," George said wickedly.  
"Only because we know he can fix them. Happy birthday, Harry!"

The table once again chorused the phrase, perhaps with a twinge of confusion, but with cheer nonetheless.

"Let's bring out the cake!" Mrs Weasley cried. Harry stood before she did, however, informing his family that he had something to say. Mrs Weasley sat quietly.  
"I would just like to say thanks," Harry said. "I've never met kinder people than everyone at the table, and I consider myself incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, even if it happened sooner than we would have liked. And, uh, I would just like to point out that Ron and Hermione were with me every step of the way and also are deserving of your praise. Now we can bring out the cake," Harry finished hurriedly, sitting down quickly. Ron was red in his ears as he clapped Harry on the back. Hermione could feel her own blush but still smiled at Harry, who looked rather bashful.

Mrs Weasley appeared levitating a round cake with her wand. The twins led the table in a round of the 'Happy Birthday' song, but they sang an incredibly vulgar version that will not be repeated. Harry sent them an amused grin, however, and blew out the candles. As he did so, the cake magically cut itself into equal slices and flew off onto plates around the table.

"Magic birthdays are always better than muggle birthdays," Harry mused to himself as he munched on his chocolate cake.  
Hermione nodded her agreement. "Can't get a flavour changing cake back home," she laughed, as the flavour changed from chocolate to blueberry in her mouth.  
"I'd hurry up and finish it before it gets to pumpkin flavour," Fred said warningly from beside her. Hermione looked up questioningly. "It doesn't sit well with the pineapple that comes after."

Fred gave her a quick grin then threw his cake at Percy. "Gred!" Fred cried. "How could you do that to our favourite Prefect?"  
George looked astounded at the change of situation, as he had been having a quiet conversation with Angelina. "Hermione seems to be in pristine condition, Forge," George replied quickly, making Hermione blush lightly. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

He jumped in horror as Percy dumped a handful of jelly down his shirt. "I've always dreamt of doing that," Percy said proudly, taking off his glasses to clean them. George's mouth fell open in shock; Angelina took the opportunity to force some ice in there, which he promptly spat out.

"I refuse to be ganged up on!" George cried. "Foodfight!"

With his call to arms, the rest of the table (excluding Fleur and Mrs Weasley) immediately jumped into action, using their hands and wands to levitate as much food as they could. Mr Weasley, to everyone's surprise, had conjured up little army men who looked incredibly like gnomes to help him throw the food. The twins immediately called him a cheater and a deceiver and used most of their energy fighting their father. Ron got angry when one of the men mistook his shoe for ammo and kicked it roughly. The little man was lighter than Ron suspected, however, and as such led to Ron losing his balance on his chair, and the man flying into Ginny's face.

The food war ended with Ginny on top of Ron, mushing jelly into his hair with a vicious intensity. Harry only made half an effort to pull his fiancé off, as he was far too busy laughing to notice Ron's discomfort.

* * *

The next day, WWW opened. The entire Weasley family came to celebrate the 'grand reopening' as the twins had named it, as so (it seemed) had the rest of the wizarding world.

The queue of people wanting to see inside the shop extended out onto the streets; Mr Weasley had to conjure up rope barriers to stop the pushing, and Harry moved about the crowd offering entertainment where he could (he mainly received thanks for killing Voldemort and took a lot of photos). Ron and Hermione were helping restock the shelves, which always seemed to be empty no matter what they did. Fred and George were at the counter with massive grins on their faces, seemingly at ease with the continuous rush of people.

The only hiccup of the day was when Hermione spotted a large golden spill of 'liquid luck' in the middle of the floor. Fred appeared behind her with a mop and bucket, a fowl look on his face.

"I hope this isn't meant to be ironic," he grumbled as he plonked the mop on the floor. Hermione gently took it from his hands.  
"Don't be silly, I'll do it," she said. "What is it, anyway? It's not real Felix Felicis, is it?"  
Fred sent her a grateful look and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Nah, it actually makes the drinker unlucky. One hour per dose, no more than two bottles per customer. Can't cause too much havoc, can we?"

He swooped, gave her a soft kiss on the cheek in thanks, and returned to the counter with his cheeky grin back in place. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she cleaned up the mess.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'm particularly fond of this chapter, and I hope you are too.**

* * *

The shop had opened at nine am and closed at three in the afternoon. Not from a lack of shoppers, but rather a lack of _stock. _

"I think we severely underestimated our popularity," George said gravely as he tossed out boxes in the backroom. Fred hummed his agreement.  
"We'll never make that mistake again," he teased. "Merlin, I don't think we can even open tomorrow_. _We're all out of Fainting Fancies again."  
"And Fever Fudge," George groaned.  
"Well it's not really a surprise that you two are such a success," Hermione told them, throwing some rubbish in the bin. "I mean, your magic is extensive, your products are original, not to mention that you've been closed for months and school's about to go back and everyone wants something from you guys."  
Fred and George exchanged amused looks. "We are rather desirable, aren't we, Forge?" George said in a pleased tone.  
"We are indeed, Gred. But there's only one girl for me," Fred replied with a wink in Hermione's direction. She blushed and turned her head away.  
"My point is, it'll probably die down once everyone's gotten over the novelty of having you back," Hermione said.  
"Hope not," George said wistfully. "Made a ton of money today."  
"Owl orders will keep us busy," Fred reminded his twin. "And there's still another month until school goes back, that's plenty of time to make some profit."

George nodded his head happily. "Right. Well, I'm off to Angie's place for the night. You two can have the flat." George winked conspicuously and sauntered out of the store, leaving his magenta robes draped over the counter.

Hermione avoided Fred's eyes until her blush disappeared. It ran through her mind that she and Fred were yet to share their first kiss, let alone sleep in the same room. Feelings of inadequacy ran through her veins.

Fred noticed her silence. "Hey, he was only joking," Fred assured her, moving to stand by her side. "We can stay at The Burrow."  
"I know," Hermione said quickly. "But still, we've been engaged a month now…" She trailed off. Fred knew where she was going, though.  
"We've been engaged a month and we haven't kissed yet, I know," he murmured. "And as I've told you before, _it's okay. _Plenty of time before we have to get there."  
"April," Hermione deadpanned. "That's our deadline."  
Fred chuckled and rubbed her back soothingly. "We don't have to kiss in the wedding ceremony, you do know that right?"  
Hermione nodded. "Of course I do. But it's muggle tradition, and that's the one thing I definitely want to keep in our wedding," she said firmly.  
Fred smiled at her. "Still so determined, even when you're shy," he whispered. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from Hermione's face.  
"Make sure you mention that in your vows," Hermione teased. Fred laughed.  
"Onto business, then! George and I never really told you, but we've based our new potions off Felix Felicis…"

Hermione listened intently as Fred explained the new potions. There were three in all; one to make you unlucky, one to make you feel happy, and one to make you confident.  
"We're trying to make one that makes the drinker feel anxious or depressed, for enemies, you know," Fred said seriously, "But that's tricky with regulations by the Ministry and such, since it could lead to suicide…"

With that cheerful note, he set Hermione to work on the Confidence Call. It was a pale yellow potion that was relatively easy to make – especially compared to the love potion Fred was currently making. Ensuring that her cauldron was at a steady simmer, she moved over to Fred's cauldron.

"You know, there's a reason most love potions are banned," Hermione said, sticking her nose over the bubbling liquid. Fred tugged her back gently.  
"We're very much aware, thank you," Fred said. "Be careful, the fumes of this one can sometimes have an effect."  
"If the potion is that strong, you shouldn't be brewing it," Hermione pointed out slyly. Fred rolled his eyes.  
"Don't question my methods. Get back to work, you're supposed to be helping me, not distracting me!"  
"It's simmering just like the instructions said," Hermione sniffed. She checked her watch. "And it still has five minutes and thirty seven seconds to go."  
Fred gave her a sidelong look. "Of course you would be right down to the second. What does amortentia smell like to you?"

Hermione frowned at the sudden question. Fred had made a habit over the last month of surprising her with random questions.

"I haven't smelt it since sixth year, so I don't know," Hermione answered. "You?"  
"Not sure," Fred said. "I'm thinking of incorporating it into one of our products, but I'm not quite sure what to do with it."  
"Perfume?" Hermione suggested. Fred deliberated.  
"I was hoping for something a bit more grand," he smirked. "Eh. I'll get back to it."  
Hermione wasn't offended in the least by his denial of her idea. "So, be honest. Is it always you coming up with product ideas or does George help too?"  
"Noticed, have you?" Fred laughed. "It's pretty even, I think. I come up with the idea and he finds a way to do it."  
"I always thought you were the cruellest," Hermione said sweetly. Fred narrowed his eyes at her.  
"Is that how you've always been able to tell us apart?" he asked curiously. Hermione smiled innocently.  
"Ah, well, now. Don't question my methods," she quoted. Fred nudged her playfully.  
"Touché."

Hermione pushed his arm in retaliation. It was just unlucky, she supposed, that it happened to be his stirring arm and that the potion spilled over the lip of the cauldron, onto Fred's hand, and over the bench. Hermione gasped.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she gushed, quickly ripping some paper towel from its bracket. She hurried back to the bench, handing some over to Fred.  
"Don't touch it!" Fred cried, but it was too late; Hermione had covered the spill with the towel, which quickly saturated through and came into contact with her bare skin.

A warmth ran through her fingers and up her arm, disappearing into her chest. Her heart skipped a beat.  
"Why wouldn't I touch it?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed.  
"Because the potion isn't ready yet," Fred said through clenched teeth. Did his lips always look so nice when he talked? "That means you don't have to ingest the potion to be affected by it."  
"The Confidence Call has one minute left," Hermione suddenly remembered. She moved around the table to her cauldron, but stopped in shock when Fred quickly backed away. "Fred?"  
"Please don't come any closer," he whispered.  
"Why not?" Hermione took a hesitant step forward. A rush of recklessness ran through her; Hermione decided she liked the feeling, and took another step forward.  
"Because I might just kiss you if you do," Fred muttered. He threw the towel that was around his hand into the bin; his hand was red, but showed no other signs of harm.  
"I don't think I'd mind," Hermione murmured, taking another step closer. Fred growled.  
"Please, 'Mione, I'm trying to be a nice person here," he groaned.  
"Then stop," Hermione whispered.

Suddenly, Fred's hands were on Hermione's waist, her back was against the wall, and her lips were moving in ways she didn't know she was capable of. Fred's mouth was soft and warm against hers, passionate in every movement. His hands were strong on her hip bones and Hermione found herself gasping as his grip tightened. Fred took her moment of surprise to nibble on her bottom lip. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Hermione stood on her tiptoes, granting herself the friction that she craved, and pulled herself tight against her fiancé.

Suddenly, a loud screeching sound vibrated throughout the room. Fred and Hermione jumped apart in surprise, pulling their wands out.  
"What's going on?" Hermione cried over the noise. Fred waved his wand and it immediately fell silent.  
"Someone's trying to break in," he said grimly.


	15. Chapter 15

Out the front of the shop, a groaning man was lying on their back. Fred threw open the door to find the would-be thief struggling to straighten out their limbs.

"Ron! What are you doing?" Hermione exclaimed.  
"Don't expect him to reply," Fred said mischievously. "Cat's got his tongue. Better bring him inside – he's bad for business, honestly."

Hermione used her wand to levitate Ron inside the shop, placing him down gently in the back room. She refused to blush when she looked at the accusing wall or the cauldron filled with ruined potion.

Fred pushed Hermione aside and poured a light blue liquid down Ron's throat, making him cough and splutter everywhere. Fred winced but didn't comment, and waved his wand over Ron's stomach in a perfect circle. He then stepped back.

"Sorry, mate," Fred said sheepishly. "But we put the wards up after hours, you know that."  
Ron coughed one last time and sat up into a more dignified position. "Can't there be a family exception or something?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Merlin."  
"We'll take it into consideration," Fred said cheerfully. "So, brother of mine, this had better be important."  
"Why, what were you doing?" Ron asked suspiciously, now standing up. Hermione avoided his eyes in embarrassment.  
"Look at the cauldrons, Ron. They've spoiled," Fred pointed out.  
"Oh," Ron mumbled. "Sorry. But Lavender… I mean, I need some of that WonderWitch stuff, for acne."

Hermione pursed her lips as she tried not to laugh. "Lavender getting stressed out, is she?" Hermione asked as normally as she could. Fred turned to the shelves on the wall behind him, looking for the bottle. Ron sighed and nodded.  
"I keep telling her the wedding doesn't have to be in November, but she's determined," Ron said, sounding a bit lost. "Like, what's the big deal anyway?"

Fred tossed Ron a small pink bottle before Hermione could reply. "Here you go, little bro," Fred sung. Ron grinned and dug into his pockets, but Fred held up his hand. "No need. Made enough money today, and you helped out in the shop, so let's call it even."  
"It's for Lavender, not me," Ron protested. "She's paying for it."  
"Tell her it's a wedding gift," Fred said with a roll of his eyes. "And next time you want to pop into the shop after hours, bloody well let me know beforehand. Apparate away, now."

With one last thank-you, Ron disappeared with a sound much quieter than the one he appeared with. Fred turned to Hermione with a sly grin on his face.

"Don't say a word," Hermione warned. Fred's grin simply got wider.  
"It was pretty good though, wasn't it?"  
Hermione smiled and returned to her cauldron. "Pretty good indeed," she murmured. Tapping her wand once on the side of the cauldron, the spoiled potion disappeared without a trace. "On a more professional note, at least we know that the Confidence Call works."  
"Of course it works, I invented it," Fred said proudly.  
"You said George finds a way to create things," Hermione reminded him shrewdly. Fred frowned.  
"Same thing."

The two enveloped into silence as they restarted their potions. Fred was muttering about reordering ingredients, a job Hermione promised she'd help with, when Hermione had that sense of recklessness run through her again. She firmly kept her feet in place, but she couldn't stop herself from speaking.

"I think we should stay in the flat tonight," she said quickly. Fred ceased in his stirring.  
"Pardon?"  
Hermione faltered. "I mean, if you want to, that is. I'm perfectly fine returning to The Burrow if you want to…"  
Fred looked at her over his shoulder with suspicious eyes. "Is that you actually saying that, or is the potion affecting you?"  
"I don't know," Hermione said. "Maybe it's just releasing my inhibitions. Isn't that what confidence is anyway, a lack of restrictions?"

Fred smiled at her. "I don't think it's really important. Well, I guess we can try the flat tonight, but if you change your mind we can go back to mum's."  
"Sounds like a plan," Hermione agreed. "But I won't change my mind."  
"Sure you won't."

By the end of their incredibly long working session, Fred had completely restocked the WonderWitch products, and Hermione had made a 'limited edition' variety of the Felix Felicis-inspired potions. Fred and herself had agreed that they were too complicated to make on such short notice and, after a brief brainstorming session, decided it was a wonderful marketing ploy to get money fast. Fred promised he'd bring them back 'due to popular demand' once they were stocked up.

It was seven o clock when the two ascended up the stairs to the flat. Fred was setting up the wards around the backroom as they walked, miraculously not tripping on the narrow staircase. Hermione felt a twinge of apprehension settle in her stomach; Fred was right to doubt her determination in staying the night, but she wasn't going to prove him right. The glaringly white door was centimetres away from her, which she opened with gentle curiosity. She had never been inside the flat before.

It was considerably plain, with white walls and dark floorboards. There were a few cracks in the walls – a result of the damage that had occurred from the war that no one seemed to be able to fix. Shelves lined the walls but there were no photographs, rather they held an assortment of writing utensils, empty and filled containers, and files and trays overflowing with paper. Books were scattered over the room; a few were on the shelves, some were stacked on the coffee table, a couple were even on the floor in the corner. A few possessions were the main focus of the room; a cream couch and two matching armchairs facing the large fireplace, obviously designed to be joined to the Floo network. A table with four chairs was behind the couch. The kitchen was immediately to Hermione's left, with a high bar separating the kitchen to the eating area. The stone bench tops were gleaming in the light. Against the right wall were four doors.

"The bathroom is the one closest to you," Fred pointed. "Then the laundry, George's room, and my room. You can sleep in my room tonight, I'll sleep on the couch."  
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not kicking you out of your room," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "I'll sleep on the couch."  
"Are you sure?" Fred asked. "I really don't mind."  
"I've slept on worse," Hermione reminded him. "I can cook dinner if you like?"  
Fred, sensing that Hermione wasn't going to budge in her decision, nodded and yawned. "That'd be brilliant. I'm going to take a shower."

It didn't take long for Hermione to find everything she needed. Though it took her a while to notice, the kitchen was set up much like a muggle house; there was a fridge with a freezer inbuilt, a gas stove and a microwave resting on the bench. Smiling, Hermione prepared a dish of fettuccine carbonara, her favourite pasta dish. She was humming whilst she worked and didn't hear Fred exit the bathroom.

Hermione turned to the bench to pick up a spoon when she noticed him walking towards his bedroom. She found it incredibly amusing that he used two towels, one of which was wrapped low around his waist. Fred was currently using the other towel to dry his hair. Hermione couldn't help but notice his back muscles ripple as he walked, which were accentuated by his upraised arms.

Realising she was staring and letting the pasta sauce burn, Hermione quickly returned to the task at hand which was definitely not ogling at Fred Weasley.


	16. Chapter 16

"Ron said you were a horrible cook," Fred said as he sucked up his pasta. Hermione sighed.  
"I'd like to see him try and make a feast out of naturally awful food," she muttered. "I mean, come on, he's lucky he even got to eat, in my opinion!"  
Fred laughed. "This is really nice though, Hermione."  
"Thanks. Your kitchen is very muggle," Hermione said conversationally. "I'm a bit shocked."  
"Yeah, so was I when George brought all the stuff home," Fred chuckled. "But it's actually so much easier to keep food. I don't know how mum does the cooking with magic, it's so much more difficult!"  
"I know," Hermione agreed. "My parents always used to leave the leftovers from tea in the fridge for my lunch at school. Less waste that way, you see."

A feeling of nostalgia washed over Hermione which she tried to shake off, but to no prevail. A sickening sense of loss settled deep in her heart, which was ridiculous since Harry had informed her just two days ago that he thought they had a lead on her parents. Apparently they had settled in Western Australia, but as that was nearly half the size of Australia it was difficult to know for sure.

Fred didn't notice her silence, typical of a Weasley when there was food in front of them. They finished their meals quickly, Hermione struggling a bit towards the end. Fred watched her in amusement.

"Has Angelina released George from wedding duties yet?" Hermione asked when their plates were cleared. Fred waved his wand and they flew to the sink, immediately cleaning themselves.  
"Nah, she's almost as stubborn as you," Fred joked. Hermione pretended to be offended, making Fred laugh. "I'm only kidding. But I actually think that George is having a good time now, I'm helping him out with his plans."  
"Keeping him in line, are you?" Hermione smiled. Fred didn't answer, merely shrugging in return. "Can I see?"  
"What, the plans? Sure thing."

Fred gestured for Hermione to follow him, leading the way to George's room. With more gusto than was strictly necessary, Fred opened George's door and let Hermione enter first. He waved his wand and the globes along the wall were filled with light.

George's room was simple, with a large bed against the wall, a bookcase, and a large desk beside the door. The desk in question was covered in what appeared to be blueprints.

"What on earth is he planning?" Hermione asked in wonder, gently picking up what looked like plans for a giant mechanical monkey. Fred snickered.

"_OI_!"

Hermione whirled and had her wand out in seconds, the incantation of a nasty spell on her lips. Fred also turned, but much slower and didn't take his wand out.

"George," Fred greeted with a raise of his eyebrow. "Looking fabulous as always, I see."

George's eyes narrowed. His shirt was half tucked in, his belt not buckled through the loops. If Hermione's observations were right, he wasn't wearing socks underneath his shoes, which were untied.

"In a hurry to get somewhere?" Hermione asked casually, lowering her wand.  
"Felt the wards break," George muttered. Then he brightened. "Had to make sure there wasn't any naughty activity going on, didn't I?"  
"Rest assured, brother of mine, I wouldn't do _that_ in your room," Fred said with a roll of eyes. "I was just showing Hermione your wedding plans."  
"What a wonderful idea! Angie won't mind if I'm a few minutes late…"

George took a seat as his desk and immediately began explaining to Hermione his plans of creating larger-than-life animals for decorations. She listened intently but didn't dare criticise; George seemed so proud of his ideas that Hermione couldn't bear to bring the smile off his face. She nodded along and offered words of encouragement.

Fred also came up to peek, resting a hand on Hermione's hip. She found that she didn't mind the action. George didn't notice, too wrapped up in his plans.

"… and I was thinking about having magenta flowers for Angie, to represent the shop," George said in a tone that suggested it was obvious. "Then again, wouldn't it be funny to have the bridesmaids wearing WWW robes!"  
George chuckled to himself and accidentally knocked a quill of the table near Hermione's foot. He quickly bent to get it before Hermione could react. George snatched up the quill, slowed on his rise upwards, and looked at Fred in the eyes for a brief moment.

"Anyway…" George drawled. "I should get back, Angie's probably wondering where I am."

Standing abruptly and ushering the two out of the room, George waved his wand in a diagonal line across his door and closed it. A satisfied smirk on his face, George turned and bowed to Hermione.

"Always a pleasure, Miss Weasley," George said, then apparated away.

The sudden silence that enveloped the two went unnoticed by Hermione, who was mulling over her new title.  
"Miss Weasley," she murmured to herself. Fred cleared his throat.  
"I think the correct term is _Mrs Weasley, _if I'm not mistaken," Fred said teasingly. He ruffled Hermione's hair quickly. "Look, I know it's early, but I'm gonna jump into bed. Early start tomorrow, I think."  
Hermione smiled. "I'll stay up and read for a while if that's alright?"  
"Of course. Wake me up if you need anything." Fred gave Hermione a blindingly-bright grin and loped off to his room, closing the door softly behind him.

Hermione let out a soft breath and ventured over to the stack of books beside the fireplace. They seemed to be organised in no particular order, which Hermione was beginning to learn was a common thing. Within the pile was a mix of muggle books relating mainly to finances and '_building a successful business!' _and wizarding books of all sorts. The infamous _Tales of Beedle the Bard _was there, tattered and completely uncared for, as well as defensive magic books and, for some reason, a book on physical transformations. Thinking that was the most interesting book, Hermione picked it and settled on the couch.

The book was mainly about animagi and metamorphmagi. Hermione was fondly reminded of Tonks, who used to use her abilities to make the girls laugh at the dinner table during their fifth year. However, Hermione did not have time to dwell on the bubbly witch; there was extensive notes written on the paper.

Getting over her dislike of writing on books, Hermione carefully read the tiny writing in the margins.

_Mammal transformations only? Reptiles possible, using scales instead of fur?  
Age of transformation effect age of form?  
Disabilities come across in form?  
Dietary changes?_

Hermione closed the book. Becoming an animagi was dangerous, and it was clear that at least one of the twins was trying to achieve the transformation. A flash of anger ran through Hermione and before she knew it, she was on her feet on her way to Fred's room. She opened his door hurriedly, entering without a second thought.

Fred wasn't snoring, a trait that Hermione thought ran through the entire Weasley clan. He had his back against the wall, his arms over the blankets. He was wearing green-striped flannel pyjamas. All the anger Hermione felt immediately disappeared upon seeing Fred in such a state of innocence.

"Mione?"  
Whilst Hermione was standing in the doorway, the light had obviously woken Fred up. His head tilted slightly in her direction. Hermione gulped in surprise.  
"Oh, um, hi," she squeaked. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."  
Fred groaned and stretched. "Light. Off." Hermione quickly shut the door and was shrouded in darkness. "What's up?"  
Hermione quickly hid the book on the ground and thought quickly. "I don't have anything to sleep in," she whispered. Fred snorted.  
"What's the problem with that?"

Hermione was so shocked that she couldn't think of anything to say. The best she could come up with was a simple "_Fred!_" making him snigger in reply.

"Over there." Hermione's eyes now adjusted to the darkness, she saw a strong arm hanging over the side of the bed, the fingers tapping on a wooden chest of drawers. Hermione crept over and reached out to find the handles.

Fred's warm fingers wrapped around her wrist. "C'mere," he murmured, tugging gently. Hermione hesitated.  
"Oh, I don't know Fred."  
"Please?" he whispered, his arm dropping back to his bed. The distance between Hermione and Fred's bed suddenly seemed daunting. But truly, had she not slept the same distance away from Harry, and even Ron, at some stage in her life? Where had her bravery gotten to?

"Oh, alright," Hermione conceded. She quickly took off her shoes and decided against getting changed, thinking that she was pushing enough boundaries for one night. She slipped under the covers and snuggled into Fred's overbearing heat.

"Your feet are cold," Fred mumbled, wrapping his arms around her middle. Hermione thought that it couldn't possibly be comfortable for him and was about to offer to move when he pulled her tight against his body.

Fred drifted off to sleep again in seconds and Hermione deemed it safe enough to relax in his embrace.


	17. Chapter 17

There was a long-awaited moment of peace as the twins closed up the shop for lunch. Hermione had offered to get them all ice cream from Fortescue's and, after an enthusiastic agreement from the Weasley's, left quickly. Fred was doing a quick sweep of the floor when he felt George's eyes on him.

"What?" Fred grumbled, avoiding eye contact. Truth be told, he wasn't angry and was dying to tell George about the night before, but he didn't know how to bring it up.  
"Something's changed between you two," George said from behind.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Oh, come off it. You know we only have a couple minutes before she comes back." Fred turned to face George with a grin on his face, only to find that George was smirking. "You did it, didn't you?"  
"No," Fred said immediately. George's smirk fell. "She did stay the night in my bed, though."  
George raised a brow. "Oh really? How did that go?"  
"Fantastically."  
"Are you going to make me drag this out of you?" George asked in exasperation. "Did you do anything interesting at all?"  
"Snogged a bit in the morning," Fred shrugged, smiling.  
"Gross, morning breath."  
"Pros outweigh the cons, George."

George rolled his eyes and tossed Fred a box. It was small, fitting into his hand easily. Fred opened it with interest. Inside was a small golden key.

"Well, George, I'm honoured that you think we're ready to go this extra step in our relationship," Fred said dramatically, "But I've already got a key to the flat."  
"Shove off, you twat. It's for Hermione."  
Fred narrowed his eyes. "And just what are you doing getting gifts for my fiancé?"  
"I originally got it made for Angie," George said with a shrug. "But I think she wants to move into a big house so there's no point in giving it to her, is there?"  
"I suppose not." Fred put the box into his robe pocket thoughtfully. "Do you think she'd actually consider living in the flat? I haven't even thought about moving out."

George shrugged again. "That's something you need to ask her, mate. It's not really an ideal place for kids."  
Fred winced. Children hadn't ever crossed his mind before the Marriage Decree passed, and even still he kept forgetting about that particular clause.

The door opened and Hermione slipped in, her arms laden with servings of ice-cream. "I didn't know what flavour you liked," she said, hurrying over to place the small buckets of ice cream on the counter, "So I just got the most outrageous-sounding one's for you."  
"Anything of Fortescue's is good," George said cheerfully. He peered at the choices and grabbed what Hermione knew to be blackcurrant, peanut butter and pistachio flavour. Fred picked a lime, cherry and hazelnut mix. Hermione had a caramel and vanilla creation – plain, which Fred took note of.

The trio elapsed into a happy silence as they ate, George nodding to himself slightly whenever the ice-cream tasted particularly nice. Hermione broke the comfortable silence.

"Are you trying to become animagi?" she asked, mixing her spoon around her ice-cream. Fred and George exchanged apprehensive looks.  
"That's a strange question," Fred said casually, also avoiding eye contact. "Why do you ask?"  
"I – I wasn't snooping, I promise," Hermione said quickly. "I was just reading a book and found the notes for it."  
"What notes?" Fred asked, looking to George who had a guilty expression on his face. Fred got the feeling that he had just discovered a secret… a feeling he was sure Hermione was experiencing too, as she looked equally surprised at the sudden revelation. George rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  
"Well, I mean, I was just thinking about some things to the process that could affect me," George explained, looking at Fred. "I know we discussed it as a prank, but I got really interested in it and it sort of just led on from there."  
"What sort of prank involves being an animagus?" Hermione asked incredulously, but the twins ignored her.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Fred asked quietly. "We share everything."  
George had the decency to wince. "I would have told you if it developed into anything," George assured him. "But it didn't, and they were just musings, that's all."

Hermione's eyes were flickering wildly between the twins as they elapsed into an uncomfortable silence. "Well, I know the answers to some of your questions, if you wanted to know," Hermione offered. George nodded and waved his hand, gesturing for her to explain more. "Physical disabilities do affect your animagus form, for one. So if you did manage it, you would still only have one ear," she said apologetically. "And if you get hurt in your animagus form it transfers to your human form. Secondly, there are no dietary changes if you eat healthy enough; you may have to eat more carbs and proteins if you turn a lot, though, as that uses quite a bit of energy. And lastly, you can't change what ingredients are in the potion to change your form; your animagus form is a reflection of who you are inside, so of course you could be a reptile."

George exchanged impressed glances with Fred. "Why do I even bother doing research when I could just ask you?" George said in awe. He then stood and clapped Fred on the shoulder. "Caught yourself a good one there, Forge."

Fred smirked and stood as well, collecting the rubbish from lunch. "Let's open up the shop already, we're five minutes later than usual."  
"Can't rush perfection, Fred."

* * *

Fred, George, and Hermione returned to The Burrow that evening after a long day at work. They were met with relieved expressions and tight hugs. Fred and George pulled away from their mother quickly.  
"What's going on?" they asked together in the exact same pitch of voice.  
"We didn't know where you were!" Mrs Weasley cried, pulling Hermione in for a hug for the third time. "You didn't owl us or anything!"  
"Were we supposed to?" George asked confusedly. "We're twenty years old, woman."  
"You don't need to baby us anymore," Fred added, rubbing his cheek where lipstick stains were.  
Mrs Weasley tapped her sons' faces fondly. "We assumed you were at the flat, but it's nice to know you're safe. Off you pop, I'll make dinner."

The three were ushered out of the kitchen. Harry and Ron were sitting in the lounge, playing a calm game of chess. Hermione headed over to them, the twins going upstairs. Harry looked over and greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, 'Mione, where have you been?"  
Hermione sat down in between her two best friends. "Fred and I stayed at the flat last night," she said. She noticed Ron's ears went slightly pink.  
"Was George there?" Ron asked. "Queen to D-Four."  
"No, he stayed at Angelina's." Ron's ears went a shade deeper.  
"Knight to D-Four," Harry said triumphantly. His knight speared the Queen and dragged her off the board. "How'd it go?"  
Hermione blanched. Was Harry really asking her about her night? What did he care? Did he suspect anything? "How'd what go?" she asked, hiding her panic. Harry gave her a confused look.  
"The shop, obviously."  
"Oh, um, pretty calm compared to yesterday," Hermione said, mentally berating herself. Of course Harry didn't suspect anything. "Have to do a bit of stock in the morning again though."  
"Where'd Fred sleep?" Ron demanded.

The redness had spread to his neck by now and Hermione found herself nervous to reply. Whilst Harry obviously wasn't dwelling too much on Hermione's night, it was clear that Ron was. Hermione decided it was necessary to abate his fears.

"Fred slept in his room, and I slept on the couch," Hermione said firmly. "Anything else you'd like to know, Ron?"  
Ron had the grace to look guilty. "No. Sorry, I'm just looking out for you."  
"I don't need you to look out for me, Fred's going to be my husband," Hermione reminded him gently. Ron went red again. "But thank you for your concern all the same."  
Finally meeting Hermione's eyes, Ron smiled. "We'll always look out for you, Hermione."

* * *

**A/N: Just fixed a mistake that was pointed out to me in a review. Canon proves that disabilities come across into the animagus form - as in the case of Peter Pettigrew with his finger - and I previously had it as the opposite.**


	18. Chapter 18

November was here, and Ron was freaking out.

"It's my wedding _tomorrow. _Tomorrow, Harry. What the hell am I going to do?"  
"Get married?" Harry suggested. He tugged Ron's tie straight. "For God's sake, Ron, stop moving!"  
"I can't!" Ron began pacing across his bedroom floor. "_Tomorrow_, blimey."  
"I never knew a simple rehearsal dinner would send you into such a frenzy," Hermione said from the doorway, a kind smile on her face. She was wearing a pale pink dress with her hair straight. She looked entirely different from normal and Ron couldn't take his eyes off her.

"You've already been through the worst of it, you've done the wedding rehearsal," Hermione continued. "You do realise there's food tonight, don't you?"  
Harry sniggered but Ron wasn't amused. "I don't care about the rehearsal, Hermione."  
"There's nothing to worry about," Hermione said firmly. She forced Ron to hold still and redid his tie, for Harry did a poor job of it and the knot was too tight. "Shouldn't you be having a stag night or something?"  
"What's a stag night?" Ron asked immediately. Harry, on the other hand, shook his head.  
"Apparently wizards don't do that sort of thing," he said. "I already asked Bill."

Hermione made a sound of interest and appraised Ron. His tie was straight, his robes were in pristine condition, and his hair was slicked back much like Draco Malfoy's used to be – but Hermione didn't dare say so, for Ron was nervous enough without being insulted.

"Are you ready to go?" Hermione asked Ron softly. He nodded, looking pale. He reached out for Hermione's hand, which she squeezed and then let go. Somehow, it felt wrong to hold hands with Ron, especially the night before his wedding.

The rehearsal dinner was occurring in a wizarding restaurant named _Lovitura de stat, _which was Romanian for 'The Coup'. Hermione didn't think Lavender realised what it translated to and simply picked it for its romantic and mystique atmosphere.

The trio descended downstairs to the backyard to find everybody else already waiting.  
"Here's the man of the hour!" Bill exclaimed proudly. "Told you he'd come!"  
George grumbled and slapped a few galleons into Bill's hand, which was outstretched mockingly.  
"Thanks for the support, George," Ron said shakily. George winked at him.  
"Yes, yes, it's all very lovely," Mrs Weasley said. She hurried over to smooth Ron's hair down and brush imaginary dust of his robes. "Let's get a move on, shall we?"

Everyone nodded their agreement and split into pairs for Side-Along apparation, as per the plan. Fred came to stand beside Hermione with a cheeky grin.  
"Shall you lead or shall I?" he asked. Hermione looked at him sternly.  
"I think that if we want to show up where we're supposed to, _I _better lead," Hermione said decisively. Fred snickered.  
"Lead away then, m'lady."

Hermione kept her eyes on Mr Weasley, who was focused on his watch. She tightened her grip on Fred's hand.  
"On three, then," he called. "One, two, three."

Hermione felt like she was being squeezed through a never-ending pipe when she appeared in front of the restaurant. The others appeared at the same time, the girls patting down their hair and robes. _Lovitura de stat _was a classy place, with hanging lanterns on the outside over the path. The wedding party crowded inside to find the room rather large, much like the tent the trio had stayed in on the hunt. The walls were a rich purple with black lacy curtains and golden globes of light along the wall. Tables covered in white sheets were organised in perfect lines along the room and, smack bang in the middle of the room for all to see, was the large table reserved for the wedding party.

That's where Lavender was currently waiting with her family and bridesmaid Parvarti Patil. Ron immediately relaxed upon seeing his bride and strode over to her confidently, wrapping an arm around her waist. Ron greeted her father with a handshake.

Hermione looked around to find Fred standing behind her shoulder, looking at the couple thoughtfully. She stepped on his toe.  
"Ouch! What?" Fred hissed. Hermione leaned in close.  
"We were supposed to bring presents," she whispered, gesturing to the other Weasley's, who all had at least one package in their hands. "We left them at home!"  
Understanding dawned on Fred's face. "I'll be right back," he said, then quickly walked outside. Hermione sent a quick smile in Mrs Weasley's direction, who was looking at her curiously. Hermione quickly struck up a conversation with Ginny.

"So what did you get Lavender, Gin?" Hermione asked, pulling her hair down around her shoulders. Ginny tossed the small present back and forth between her hands.  
"A really gaudy headband," Ginny snorted. "Remember how fond she was of them at school? Always had them in her hair."  
Hermione smiled. "Not the worst present you could have gotten. Wait until you see what I got her."  
"Oh, you've got me interested, Hermione! You've got to tell me now!" Ginny's eyes were bright and ready to laugh.  
"Well I didn't know what to get her, you see…"

They were interrupted by a large, bodiless voice that echoed throughout the room. "If everyone could please take their seats, the rehearsal dinner is about to start. Thank you."

Hermione made an apologetic face at Ginny and went to find her seat. Folded paper was sitting on top of the china plates with names on them, indicating who sat where. To Hermione's relief, she was placed beside Harry, with Fred on her other side.

"Where's Fred?" Harry asked, appearing out of nowhere and pulling out her seat for her. Hermione smiled at him gratefully.  
"Oh, he's just in the bathroom," Hermione lied quickly, settling herself down. "Say, have you given Lavender your gift yet?"  
"We give them after the dinner, apparently," Harry said with a frown. "Weddings are so complicated, 'Mione."  
"I agree," Hermione said solemnly. She hadn't made much progress on wedding plans with Fred lately, but she promised herself that she would start doing so soon.

Fred suddenly plopped down in his seat beside Hermione, two wrapped presents in his hands. He handed one over to Hermione with a wink before turning to George, who was placed beside him.  
"Oi, did you get Lavender a present?" he asked. George shook his head.  
"I was supposed to?"  
"Yes, you fool. Not a problem, though. I, with my far superior twin intelligence, thought ahead and prepared a present from both of us."  
"Well… thanks, I guess. I hope it isn't awful."  
"Don't be ridiculous, as if I'd pick an awful present."

The disembodied voice rang out again, interrupting the twins' conversation. "First course: Hot-honeyed grapefruit or savoury pears."

Waiters dressed in all black came out with the dishes, efficiently placing them in front of the Weasley's and Brown's. Hermione landed herself with the grapefruit – which was exactly what it sounded like. The grapefruit was warm to touch and drizzled with honey. Fred received the savoury pear, which Hermione had to admit wasn't looking appetising. Four pear halves were placed on a bed of lettuce, covered in a lot of white liquid Hermione assumed was mayonnaise.

Fred looked down at his dish in disgust. "I'm not sure which one looks worse," he muttered to Hermione, poking the pears with his fork. A half rolled over to show its centre filled with ricotta cheese. Fred grimaced.  
"Want to swap?" Hermione offered half-heartedly. Though grapefruit was not her favourite, it certainly looked more appealing than the meal Fred had, and she sincerely wished he would decline. However, she should have known better. Fred jumped at the chance.  
"Thanks," he said, quickly snatching up her plate and replacing it with his own.

Hermione took a great leap of faith and, firmly believing that Ron would never allow disgusting food to be served at his wedding, took a bite of her entrée. Thankfully, it wasn't as awful as she suspected, but the flavours of mayonnaise, ricotta cheese and pear sat strangely on her tongue, and she only finished half of the meal.

The main course was either roast pork or roast turkey, served with a wide variety of vegetables and potato. Fred and Hermione once again swapped, Fred craving the fat that came with the crackle of pork. Dessert was a simple vanilla flavoured cake, almost identical to the wedding cake planned for the next day.

Fred and George were moaning as they finished their meals.  
"I can't believe we have to eat this again tomorrow," George groaned.  
"I know… Health freak, or what?" Fred muttered in reply. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "At our wedding, we're not bothering with any of this nonsense, alright Hermione?"  
"Shush. We have to go give her our presents and then we can leave," she promised. Fred and George brightened at the prospect and hurried into line, dragging Hermione along with them.

Soon enough they reached the front of the line. Ron was standing hand in hand with Lavender, looking tired but pleased. He smiled widely at Hermione.  
"This is for you, Lavender," Hermione said, smiling warmly at Lavender. The bride took her present curiously, opening it up immediately. Inside was a large, heavy, and most importantly, gaudy-looking, crystal ball.

"I remember how much you liked Divination at school," Hermione continued seriously, "and that's supposed to be the best model ball you can buy."  
Lavender looked stunned. "Oh, um, thanks Hermione," she stuttered. "I'm really…"  
"You're welcome, Lavender," Hermione interrupted in a pleased tone.

Hermione moved off to the side feeling very satisfied with herself and watched Fred and George elbow each other to give Lavender their present. It turned out to be a large stock of WonderWitch products, varying from love potions to beautifying products. Hermione overheard them assure Lavender that they were not implying she wasn't beautiful and laughed.

"If you think you can get away with giving me some products from your shop at my wedding, you're sorely mistaken," Hermione told George when he came over with Fred.  
"At least she liked our present," George said, "Much better than a crystal ball."  
Hermione pretended to be offended. "I'll have you know that Lavender was very interested in Divination whilst we were at school!"

Fred and George rolled their eyes in synchronisation. "Always knew there was something off with that girl," Fred muttered.

* * *

**A/N: The definition of 'coup' is 'an instance of successfully achieving something difficult' according to Google, and I found this rather fitting for Ron as he struggled so much with his nerves. **


	19. Chapter 19

Ron's wedding was a giant success, pictures of which covered the media for weeks afterwards. Lavender was revelling in the attention and occasionally managed to pull Ron into the spotlight as well. Harry was pleased to see his best mate having some solo attention.

Four weeks on, it was the fourth of December, and Fred and Hermione were lazily flipping through booklets of wedding outfits, and had been for the last ten minutes.

"This is all nonsense," Fred yawned. "Why can't they wear what they like?"  
"I'd like some sort of unity in the party, at least," Hermione mused. "What do you think of blue?"  
"That's alright, I suppose. Tie or bowtie?"  
"Bowtie."  
"Agreed. Can it spin?" Fred looked pleadingly at Hermione, who agreed reluctantly.  
"Alright. Robes or suits?"  
"Robes. Wizard tradition, you know."  
"I forgot. I think I'll wear a proper wedding dress." Hermione looked up at Fred, who was gazing into the fireplace. "Are you bored?"  
Fred looked down at her and smiled. "A bit, but that's alright. It needs to be done."

Hermione carefully observed Fred's face, which looked a little more tired than usual and less cheerful. She believed that he was a little bit more done with the subject of weddings than he was letting on.

"Let's go out for dinner," Hermione suggested, putting the booklet down. "I've had enough of this as well."  
Fred looked at her in relief. "Does the Leaky Cauldron sound alright to you?"  
"Sounds perfect," Hermione smiled. "I'll go get changed and be right back."  
"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" Fred asked, looking at her pants. They were cotton sweatpants that had belonged to her mother.  
"I'll look nicer if I change clothes," Hermione said, not bothering to try to explain to Fred that it simply was not acceptable to go out in such attire. The beautifying excuse usually shut him up quickly.

Hermione slipped on some dark jeans and a red top, taken from the bag she had set a few nights earlier. It had become habit for Hermione to stay at the flat nowadays, and though she was still in the process of moving her stuff over, she had an outfit for every occasion.

Returning to the main room it appeared that Fred hadn't moved an inch. He perked up when Hermione entered, a bright smile lighting up his face.  
"Shall we Floo there?" he asked, already heading towards the fireplace. "I'm feeling lazy."  
Hermione laughed. "That's fine."  
"Ladies first," Fred said gallantly, holding a hand out to help her into the fireplace. With a roll of her eyes Hermione grabbed a fistful of floo powder, shouted her destination, and was spinning through the air in no time. She had closed her eyes to protect them from stray soot and only opened them once she felt her feet on firm ground.

The Leaky Cauldron was as dark and musty as ever. Stepping out of the fireplace Hermione quickly wiped down her top, which was now slightly smudged with soot, and wiped her face with the handkerchief that the bartender, Tom, was holding out to her.  
"Thanks," Hermione said gratefully. "Table for two?"  
Tom bowed. "Follow me, m'dear."

Hermione did so, looking back at the fireplace in the hopes of seeing Fred. To her disappointment he hadn't arrived yet and so she simply sat down, took the two menu's Tom was offering her, and started browsing.

She had just decided on the chicken and mushroom ravioli when a rush of wind came from the fireplace and Fred stepped out. He had a worried look on his face and quickly browsed the area for Hermione, who stood immediately. They met halfway across the floor.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione asked. Fred shook his head and gulped.  
"I don't… I don't know, George sent me a message," he said shakily, rubbing his face. "Apparently Angie's in hospital and we don't… he's asked me to come, you see…"  
Hermione took hold of one of Fred's hands. "Let's go, then."

Fred refused to let Hermione's hand go, so they entered the fireplace together. As Fred was calling out _"St Mungos!" _she heard a particularly gaudy laugh, and Hermione spotted Katie Bell sitting in the corner with Oliver. Perhaps it was best they didn't stay, after all.

She closed her eyes once more and clutched Fred tightly as they spun through the network. It was a considerably longer journey than the previous one but Hermione didn't mind it with Fred.

Their feet landed roughly on the perfectly flat stone of the St Mungo's fireplace. Stepping out and wiping their feet on the mats, the couple were immediately descended upon by nurses pointing their wands at them.

"Relax, dears, it's simply a decontamination routine," one of the nurses said. "Have to protect the patients, you know."

A few flicks of their wands later, the two were deemed safe to leave, and exited the room. It was a small room ajar to the main floor of the hospital, near the reception desk. Thankfully there was only a short line, and they got to the front soon enough.

"Angelina Johnson," Fred said immediately. "Er, Weasley?"  
The grumpy-looking lady gave him a curious look before answering, "Second Floor, Gunhilda Ward."  
Fred hurried off straight away, so Hermione thanked the witch on his behalf and followed him to the elevators. He didn't speak, so Hermione babbled words of comfort.

"Second Floor is good, right? Magical bugs and diseases; that means they can be cured," Hermione said, slipping her hand into Fred's. She liked to think that the rigidity in his body lessened a little.  
"Not necessarily," Fred replied stiffly.

The doors clanged open and they exited, nearly barrelling into a mediwizard in lime green robes. Hermione immediately apologized.  
"Don't be silly, dear," the witch said. With a shock, Hermione recognised her as Miriam Strout, the Healer who was in charge of Lockhart's ward when she last came to visit. Guiltily, Hermione hoped that the Healer wouldn't recognise her.  
"We're looking for Angelina Johnson, in the Gunhilda ward," Fred said. Miriam consulted her note board.  
"Room nineteen," she said with a click of her tongue. Walking away, Hermione exchanged looks with Fred and set off, counting the numbers on the doors.

Angelina's room was placed before a corner in the hallway, easy enough to remember. Fred paused before the door, taking a deep breath. Slowly, he opened the door.

George was sitting at Angie's bedside mournfully, resting his head on his crossed arms, which were beside Angelina's waist. He looked up when the door opened, grief over his face. Fred and Hermione entered quietly as Angelina was sleeping. George stood and met Fred halfway, giving him a rough hug.

"How are you?" Fred asked quietly. George shrugged and shook his head. "How's Angie?"  
"Tired," George murmured. "Has a fever and everything. Fred… they think she's got dragon pox."  
Hermione sat down in the spare chair at Angie's side, noting the green tone of her skin, which looked odd with her natural olive-toned skin.

Angelina started to stir and George immediately returned to his chair beside the bed. He stroked her hair back, making her smile slightly.  
"George," she murmured.  
"I'm here," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."  
"Can't. Need to… need…"  
"Need what?" George urged.

Suddenly, without warning, Angelina bolted upright, twisted to the side of the bed where Hermione was sitting, and began vomiting profusely. Mortified, Hermione sat frozen on her seat as Angelina coughed, managed to draw breath, and vomited once more. The green vomit was tinged with purple and was burning hot against Hermione's clothes.

Somewhere in the room Hermione heard Fred's laughter, but she was too shocked to do anything but continue breathing. Finally, Angelina coughed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and collapsed back onto her bed.

"Thanks," Hermione grumbled at last. Angelina's eyes opened and her head twisted to look at Hermione in surprise.  
"Hermione!" Angelina cried. "Oh, no, tell me I didn't vomit on you!" Shrugging, Hermione kept her mouth firmly shut. "I'm so sorry, Hermione!"  
"You didn't mean it," Hermione said. "Fred, go get a nurse. I don't want to get infected."

Fred was still chuckling as he opened the door. Another Healer in green robes was standing behind it with her arm raised to knock.  
"Hello," she said in surprise.  
"Hello there," Fred said in the exact same tone. He opened the door farther and moved out of the way, allowing the witch entry.

She immediately dropped her note board at the end of Angelina's bed and pulled out her wand, moving over to Hermione. Muttering a slow incantation the Healer waved her wand around the vomit in a circular motion. Hermione watched as the sick slowly faded from view.

"Take this," the Healer ordered, taking a small pink vile from her pocket. Hermione downed it in one gulp. "That'll stop you from getting sick. As for you, Angelina, you need to take these three." Angelina obediently swallowed a clear potion, a blue one, and a green one, grimacing slightly.  
"Healer Smithleen, how long do I have to stay?" Angelina asked.  
"Probably only a few days. You came in early enough that we can stop the infection before it gets too bad," Smithleen promised.  
"What if it does get bad?" George asked harshly. Healer Smithleen sent him a patient smile.  
"Then we'll cure her."  
"So I'm not going to die?" Angelina asked. The Healer chuckled and shook her head.  
"Not today, ma'am. Also, in case you were worried, your baby is unaffected by the infection."

Hermione was nodding when she realised what the Healer had said. She looked to Fred, who looked equally stunned as George. Angelina looked vacant.

"What?" asked George. "A… a baby? Us? Her?"  
Healer Smithleen looked confused. "Well, yes, Angelina has a baby," she said. "About four weeks old, it is."  
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "That's a little early to be able to detect a baby, isn't it?"  
"Magical medicine is far beyond the capabilities of muggle medicine," the Healer said firmly. "I'm sorry to ruin the surprise."

George and Angelina weren't paying attention. They were simply staring at each other, Angelina looking close to fainting. "A baby," she whispered.  
"You know you had three years to have children, don't you?" Fred teased, shaking his head. "Merlin, George, I never knew you were so keen to get ahead!"  
"Neither did I!" George laughed.

Healer Smithleen smiled. "It appears fate is setting her own plans in motion. Congratulations."

* * *

**A/N: I've just finished writing the last chapter of this story, so whilst it still needs a bit of work, there's only going to be 28 or 29 chapters altogether.**


	20. Chapter 20

Angelina was out of hospital three days later, with minimal scarring on her feet. She returned to her normal olive complexion and threw herself into planning for a baby, keeping her nose clear of George's wedding plans.

"I _am_ curious as to what he's planning," Angelina was saying to Hermione as they browsed colours for the nursery. They had several books of examples that they were looking over at the table in the flat. "I mean, I'm not angry at him anymore, but he says I'm not to butt in."  
Hermione smiled. "I've had a brief look, and –"  
"Oi! No spoilers!"  
"And everything looks fine," Hermione continued, ignoring Angelina. "How about yellow?"  
Angelina debated. "No," she said at last. Hermione put it to the side.

"How're… you know, you and Fred?" Angelina asked hesitantly. A suggestive look crossed her face. "Have you…"  
"What? Angelina, no!" Hermione cried, blushing profusely. Angelina laughed.  
"Oh, relax. I didn't mean to intrude."  
Hermione scowled. "Of course not."  
"But you're happy, right?" Angelina pushed. Hermione nodded.  
"How could I not be?" she asked, smiling. "Fred's brilliant."  
Angelina hummed her agreement. "George has been worried that you'd make him too boring, you know," she admitted. "But I think the damage will be less than George thinks. He'll be especially good for you, as well."  
Hermione pretended to be shocked. "I can't believe George would say that! I better have a word to him."  
"No! No, you mustn't tell him I said anything!" Angelina said immediately, reaching out to clasp Hermione's hand urgently. Hermione laughed.  
"Oh, relax," she mocked. Turning serious, she continued. "It's not like we're a match made in heaven, I suppose, so I can see where he's coming from. Still, we haven't had an argument yet, not a real one anyway."  
"A real one?" Angelina questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "All arguments are real."  
Hermione shook her head. "Not really. We've just had… debates, I suppose. Especially with the wedding. Little things, like showing off his products and wearing strange clothing." Hermione smiled fondly. "Nothing overly major."  
Angelina shrugged. "That kind of stuff builds up over time, though," she said seriously. "It happens with George and I a lot. If there's anything I've learned from being with the Weasley twins, it's that it's important to let them have their fun."  
"I know," Hermione murmured.

She had already worked that much out for herself, but she was thankful for Angelina's support. She was, as George had put it so many months ago, a hell of a girl.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Hermione asked once Angelina had denied her fourth colour suggestion (pale gold).  
"George always goes to The Burrow, but I think my parents are holding a small get together. Not to mention, Katie's holding some sort of quidditch reunion with Oliver that she's invited me to." Angelina sighed deeply. "It's rough being popular, Hermione."  
"I wouldn't know," Hermione murmured. Angelina immediately looked ashamed.  
"No, I didn't mean it like that," she said hurriedly. "I just meant –"  
"Don't worry about it," Hermione interrupted. "I've had my fair share of popularity, thank you very much."  
Angelina appraised her with a keen eye. "Especially in the newspapers," she agreed. Then, she laughed loudly. "Do you remember what Rita Skeeta used to write about you? Blimey, that was rubbish."  
"Really?" Hermione asked in surprise. "I thought everyone believed her."  
"We're not all daft," Angelina said breezily. "Just unheard."

At that moment, Fred and George entered the flat, Fred tripping George over the threshold. Laughing, Fred continued past his twin gingerly, who reached out and grabbed hold of Fred's ankle and pulled him down. After a brief scuffle on the floor, the two bounced up with smiles on their faces.

"There they are!" George exclaimed, gesturing to the girls. "Right where we left them."  
"Maybe a little bit to the left," Fred allowed, tilting his head slightly.

Hermione blushed under their intense gazes, and instead returned to her booklet. She'd reached the brown colours. The twins loped over and grabbed something off the table, which had previously been invisible. Now under their touch, it turned purple and silver.

"I knew we had an extra pair up here," George said mischievously. Fred was wearing an identical grin; the only difference between them was the lack of ear on George's behalf.

"How are my lovely girls?" George asked, loping over to sit beside Angelina, resting his arm on the back of her chair. Angelina rolled her eyes.  
"You know that we can't tell what gender the baby is for another couple of months, right?" she asked, putting her book down.  
George shrugged. "I already know that it's going to be a girl."

Fred quietly sat himself beside Hermione, offering a small smile which she returned. "The shop's all closed up, how about a night in?" he asked her quietly. Hermione nodded eagerly.  
"I'm starving," she said. Her stomach groaned loudly, emphasising her point. "Do you want me to cook?"  
"Nah, we will," Fred said, already standing up. He nudged George between the shoulder blades roughly. "Come on, you lazy sod. Day's not over yet."

George groaned, gave Angelina a swift kiss on the cheek, and followed Fred into the kitchen. Angelina returned to her book, but Hermione was far too distracted by her fiancé.

The twins had a strange method of cooking. It was clear beyond all doubt that they had done this before – that, or they were telepathically linked. Fred got the pots out and left them on the bench for George to fill. A small bottle of salt was then tossed over his shoulder to George, who caught it without looking, and used it. Fred turned on the stove, George put the pots on. They never crossed paths and yet always seemed to be switching ends within the kitchen. George would crack the eggs (one-handed) and Fred would whisk them, salt them, and send them back to George who put it in with the rest of the meal. The meat was thrown over their shoulders into the frying pan with a loud _splat! _

Angelina was snickering. "Stop watching, you'll make them fumble," she whispered to Hermione. Too awestruck to reply, Hermione simply stared at the cover of her book. Soon enough, enticing smells wafted through her nose.  
"Do they do this all the time?" Hermione asked Angelina, who was holding her book up past her nose, only revealing her eyes. They looked amused at Hermione's shock.  
"They're just showing off," she said, her voice muffled. She lowered the book, showing Hermione a plain colour. "What do you think of Hogs Bristle?"  
"It's a bit dull."

Despite Hermione's negativity, Angelina decided on Hogs Bristle for the nursery colour, stating that it would be bright enough. As they put the books away, Fred and George levitated the food over to the tale. The twins had made a hearty meal of various red meats, vegetables, homemade pasta with herbs and scalloped potatoes.

"That was quite a show," Hermione couldn't resist from commenting, spearing a piece of potato with her fork. Fred and George exchanged glances.  
"We're always out to impress you, darling," Fred said extravagantly. "Did we succeed?"  
"Beyond belief," Hermione nodded.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Angelina nudge George and give him a meaningful look. Hermione knew that she was easing his fears of her making Fred boring. George, however, looked unconvinced, and that made Hermione all the more determined to prove him wrong.


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione woke up to an empty and cold bed, which was strange since she usually woke up before Fred. She stretched, rubbed her eyes, and got up. Holding back another yawn, she took her wand off the bedside table and wrapped her dressing gown around her. Quietly, she opened the door.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, HERMIONE!"

Fred, George and Angelina were milling around the sitting room, but turned when they heard the door open. They threw their hands up into the air and confetti softly fell down from the roof, landing in everyone's hair.

"Good morning," Hermione murmured, tucking her un-brushed hair behind her ear. "I didn't realise you were here."  
"We had to get up early to decorate!" Fred exclaimed, coming over to take Hermione's hand. "Took us three hours, this did!"

With a shock, Hermione realised that it was nine in the morning and she had slept an hour later than usual. She shook it off, however, and observed the decorations gracing the usually plain walls.

Colourful paper chains were draped over the shelves and the roof, covered in glitter. Strange posters that were almost propaganda were on the walls, stating things like _Santa wants you… to be good! _and _If Rudolph had a shiny red nose, so can you! _A giant Christmas tree was against the desk, hiding it from view. There was no theme to the decorations on the tree, which Hermione was so used to having; old and new, bright and dull, homemade and bought decorations covered every inch of the real fir tree. Presents were littered underneath it.

"We'll go around to mum's later with the rest of the presents," Fred said happily.  
"Whilst I go to Katie's," Angelina added.  
George nudged her. "But we'll have a little feast here, just us four, first."

Hermione was ushered to the table, Fred pulling out her seat for her. Sitting reluctantly, Fred pushed her chair back in, scraping it along the floor, making her wince. Angelina sat herself down.  
"Really, Angie, I haven't even brushed my hair," Hermione hissed over the table. "I'm not even dressed!"  
"What's wrong with your robe?" Angelina asked. Hermione didn't get a chance to reply, for Fred placed a large plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her. The smell was so tempting that, for a moment, Hermione forgot about her underdressed state.

George followed with a plate of bacon and sausage. Fried tomato and hash browns followed, then the last plate of fresh fruit was placed on the table and the boys sat. A jug of orange juice and four glasses appeared on the table.

"Say cheese, Hermione!" Fred cried, whipping out a camera and taking her photo before she could respond. To her horror, she hadn't finished her mouthful of pancake, nor had she wiped her mouth of any stray chocolate.

"Fred!" she yelled, reaching for the camera. "For God's sake, I'm not even dressed!"  
"I think you look beautiful," he assured her, tossing the camera to George who quickly snapped another picture of Hermione clawing at Fred's arms. Angelina struck a pose and George joined in, holding the camera out far to capture the both of them.

Disgusted at her un-photogenic state, Hermione sullenly ate some bacon and fruit, occasionally tossing a crumb at Fred. George called order by tapping his fork against his glass.

"Hermione's first Christmas!" George declared, holding up his glass of juice. Fred and Angelina quickly followed suit. Feeling their eyes upon her, Hermione held up her empty glass. George frowned and began filling it up for her.  
"Our first one as a family," Angelina said softly as they waited for Hermione's glass to fill. All resentment at being caught unaware immediately left Hermione and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.  
"Welcoming the latest Weasley additions," Hermione said pointedly, making Angelina laugh and rub her stomach slightly.  
"To the first of many more," Fred added cheerfully.

They all reached their glasses into the middle, clanked them softly, and took a sip – a small one, in Hermione's case, for she didn't like orange juice all that much.

Breakfast continued in a hearty cheer, Fred and George eating nearly all of the food. Angelina checked the time and sighed.  
"I've got to go in a minute," she said, standing up. "I'll be back for dinner, I think."

Fred and George immediately stood up. "Hold on!" they cried.  
"We have to take a group photo," George said excitedly. Hermione groaned.  
"Come on, can't I at least get dressed first?"  
Fred gave her a grin. "Absolutely not! We want you to remember this day in all its glory, and that means you being in your pyjamas!" Fred leaned in close. "You look gorgeous anyway," he promised. He kissed her softly, ignored the catcalls from George, and led her to the Christmas tree.

"Remember to strike a pose," George reminded them mischievously. "And the camera is ready for five… four…" He hurried back to the tree and grabbed Angelina by the waist. "Two…"  
Fred quickly took Hermione and dipped her, making her squeal. One of her legs flew up into the air unexpectedly and the camera flashed in the middle of Hermione's surprise.

"Merry Christmas, 'Mione," Fred murmured. Hermione clutched at his arms.  
"Merry Christmas," she replied breathlessly. Fred slowly returned her to a standing position. He hands remained on her waist.  
"Mistletoe," he said with a smile. Hermione immediately looked up to find the accusing plant above their heads. "It's law that you have to kiss me."  
"Law?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Rather tradition, don't you think?"  
"Magical contract," Fred shrugged.  
"And what am I signing up for?" Hermione asked. Fred thought about it.  
"If you kiss me, you have to promise to marry me," he said seriously. Hermione snickered.  
"I think I can live with that." Fred pulled her closer and Hermione willingly stood on her tiptoes to kiss him thoroughly.

"I think that's quite enough, you two!" George announced, pulling Hermione away from Fred. "Angelina's gone now, or didn't you notice?"

Truthfully, neither did notice, and neither cared. George, however, seemed a little put out.  
"Weren't you invited to the quidditch party?" Hermione asked, retying her gown. George shrugged.  
"Yes and no. It's complicated."  
Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "I'll get dressed and we'll be on our way."

She quickly scurried away before either of the twins could pick her up and force her to arrive at the Burrow in her pyjamas.


	22. Chapter 22

Hermione dressed herself in a pale blue dress and flats, brushed her hair and tied it into a bun at the nape of her neck, hurriedly brushed her teeth and met the twins in the sitting room.

"Finally," George said dramatically. "Meet you at mum's?"  
"Almost certainly," Fred replied, looking at Hermione up and down. "Maybe a bit later."  
George rolled his eyes. "Also, a heads up: mum doesn't know Angie's pregnant. As far as she's aware, Angie only had dragon pox. Alright?"

At Fred and Hermione's nod, George apparated away. Hermione began to blush at Fred's intense gaze.

"You look beautiful," he said at last. Hermione smiled and ducked her head.  
"Let's get going, shall we? Do you have the presents?"

Fred lifted up a heavy looking bag. "I want to give you yours here, though," he murmured quietly, digging it out of his jacket pocket. It was the dragon hide one, the first thing he and George bought from their profits. "While it's just us, you know."  
"Okay…"

Fred tossed her a small wrapped box, small enough to fit into the palm of her hand. Unwrapping it gingerly, a white leather box was revealed.  
"Fred…"  
The box grudgingly opened to reveal an engagement ring. It was a gold band with a large princess cut diamond in the centre.

Hermione looked up in shock to find Fred looking nervous, smiling slightly nonetheless. "I never really got you a ring, so I thought it was appropriate," he chuckled. He rubbed the back of his neck.  
"It's beautiful," Hermione murmured, throwing herself into Fred's arms. He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly. "But I thought we agreed no presents!"

Fred gave her a cheeky grin and pulled away, sliding the ring onto her finger. "Do you mean to say that you didn't get me anything?" he demanded. Hermione gave a bashful smile.  
"Well, yes, I did –"  
"No dramas, then," Fred said swiftly. He took her hand in his. "Let's get a move on, shall we?"  
"I don't know if you'll like it," Hermione argued stubbornly, "So just open it here."  
Fred rolled his eyes. "_Fine_," he moaned dramatically. He closed his eyes and held out his hands. "Hand it over."

Hermione pursed her lips and dug his present out of the bag. It was heavy, and wrapped tightly so as not to give anything away by its shape. Chewing her lip, she turned it between her hands.

"Maybe I should have gotten you something else," she murmured. Fred opened one eye, sighed, and took it out of her hands.  
"Honestly, woman, how bad could it possibly be?" Fred asked, ripping into the paper enthusiastically. His eyes bulged as he let the wrapping drop to the ground. "This isn't…"  
"I know that it's a bit stupid," Hermione said immediately. "I wasn't counting on you wearing your jacket today. But this one's white."  
"And twice as expensive," Fred pointed out.

He held up his present in awe, dangling it in front of his eyes. A normal dragon-hide jacket was hard enough to come by, but a white one was twice as rare. It was made specifically for his measurements as well, but he didn't question how Hermione knew them. The material was tough and smooth beneath his fingers.

"Do you like it?" Hermione asked tentatively. Fred nodded and shook off his old jacket, replacing it with the white one immediately. It matched his plain white shirt and black pants.  
"How on earth could you possibly think I wouldn't like it?" Fred demanded, pulling Hermione in for a tight hug. The jacket was cool against her face.  
"I thought that you might kick up a fuss about how expensive it was, or what a waste it was because you've already got one," Hermione mumbled against his chest. Fred sighed deeply.  
"Hermione, I will always love whatever you get me," he promised.  
"Okay," Hermione whispered. She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "We really better be going now, George will be wondering what's keeping us."  
Gathering the presents once more, Fred had a sly grin on his face, and Hermione knew better than to comment on it.

They apparated to The Burrow, walking down the garden path hand in hand. Fred was swinging the present bag up high with every step, making Hermione stress that it would break. It made Fred laugh.

Mrs Weasley met them at the door. "Come in, dears," she greeted, kissing both Fred and Hermione on the cheek. "Good, everyone's here. We're going to open presents and then I'll start cooking lunch."

She ushered them into the sitting room where a much smaller Christmas tree than the one at the flat was sitting. To be true, Hermione preferred hers and Fred's tree. Harry stood up at their entrance to greet them, with a wide smile on his face. Ron joined him.

"We made it!" Harry joked. "Our first Christmas outside of Hogwarts, for real!"  
Hermione smiled. "Hope there aren't any snakes around," she said solemnly. "Harry, did I mention I bought you a new wand for Christmas?"  
Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I really hope you didn't," he said.  
"Let's find out," Ron said, leading them all to the couch. Fred went to sit beside George, who looked a little lonely without Angelina. Hermione was stuck between Harry and Ron on the couch, Ginny perched on the armrest beside Harry.  
"Where's Lavender?" Ginny asked Ron.  
"On a holiday with her family," Ron shrugged. "Monaco or somewhere?"

Ginny nodded and leaned down to Harry. Hermione couldn't help but eavesdrop.  
"Do you think that they're more boyfriend and girlfriend than husband and wife?" Ginny whispered, making Harry snicker.

"Alright, everyone!" Mrs Weasley called. "Are all the presents sorted?"  
Hermione looked down at her feet to find a small pile of presents had appeared there without her realising.  
"We solemnly swear that we didn't tamper with any of them," the twins chorused, holding up their hands as if taking an oath. Mrs Weasley looked pleased.  
"Unwrap, then!"

Ron pounced on his large pile hungrily, digging through to find the biggest one first. Harry simply grabbed whatever was closest to him. Hermione decided to find Mrs Weasley's first, as she knew that would be a sweater, and it would please the matriarch to see Hermione wearing it.

As it was, when Hermione finally found the present, it was far too small to be a jumper. Curious, Hermione found that she had received a scarf instead, white in colour. She immediately put it on, fluffed her hair out around it, and thanked her.

"Oi, Hermione!" Fred called. "We match!"

With a giggle, Hermione found that he was right; Fred had received a pale blue scarf, almost matching the shade of Hermione's dress.

Her other presents consisted of toffee, various French chocolate from Bill and Fleur, a book on animagi from George – who had winked when she sent him a teasing look – another book on healing from Harry ("Though I'm sure you've got enough knowledge from having to heal me all the time," Harry had joked) and another one on cooking from Ron, who didn't comment at all, merely giving her a pointed look.

Ginny must have coordinated with Fred, for she had given Hermione a small pair of diamond earrings.  
"Ginny, you shouldn't have," Hermione abolished her. Ginny shrugged.  
"Apparently they were my great grandmother's aunts?" Ginny screwed up her nose in an effort to remember. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't wear studs, so I thought you should have them."  
Hermione smiled gratefully and put them in her ears.  
"What's that?" Ginny asked, pointing to Hermione's finger. Her eyes widened.  
"A… An engagement ring?" Hermione questioned. "You mean that you didn't coordinate with Fred on this?"  
"Lucky coincidence," Ginny murmured. Her keen eye turned to Fred, who was currently kneeling next to Ron.

"This is a joint gift from me and Hermione," Fred told Ron happily.  
"And me!" George cried. Fred shook his hand.  
"Whatever. It's still a prototype, but we think you'll like it!"

Ron nervously opened the bright orange wrapping paper to reveal a dull purple box with silver writing, exclaiming _Silent Show Surprise! _in curly font.

"Fireworks?" Ron breathed. He loved fireworks with a passion – not as much as he loved food or quidditch, but close behind that. "Seriously?"  
Fred and Hermione nodded with big grins on their faces. "We can let a couple off after dinner," Fred suggested. "I'll restock whatever we use tonight."  
Ron nodded eagerly. "This is the best Christmas present ever," he said, running his fingers over the box.  
"Oi, you haven't opened mine yet," Harry interrupted, handing over a thin present. "I think I deserve the 'best Christmas present ever'!"

Hermione watched curiously as Ron quickly ripped into his present, which turned out to be a card. Inside the card were tickets.

"Harry, you can't be serious," Ron exclaimed. "These are seasonal tickets! This must have been expensive!"  
Harry was beaming. "Does this mean…"  
"Best Christmas present ever," Ron confirmed.  
"How about we settle for 'best Christmas ever'?" Hermione suggested quickly, seeing Fred gasp dramatically which usually meant he was about to go on a rant.  
"Agreed," the boys chorused.

Satisfied, Hermione gathered her gifts and placed them in the bag she and Fred had brought along. Mrs Weasley held the bag steady for her.  
"I'm about to start lunch, dear, how about you start moving – " Her eyes focused in on the ring suspiciously. "What's that?"  
Hermione wiggled her fingers, watching the diamond shine. "Fred gave it to me this morning," Hermione said with a smile. "It's pretty, isn't it?"  
"Yes," Mrs Weasley agreed. "It was my grandmother's."  
Hermione looked at her in surprise. "Really? Fred didn't say…"

Mrs Weasley simply smiled. "He doesn't know. Fred doesn't care much for family heirlooms."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but quickly rethought her decision. She knew that Fred was impeccably sentimental and kept proof of firsts… First dance, first holiday, first Christmas… first everything.

A sudden thought struck Hermione's brain. She knew more about Fred than his mother did. The thought made Hermione feel warm inside.

"I want to let off some fireworks before lunch," Ron said loudly at the table. The twins cheered and led the way outside, the purple box being held between them. Fred caught Hermione's eye and winked.

They set up the fireworks around the back of the house, the family crowding outside to watch. The sky was considerably grey so they could see the fireworks with ease – though the twins' fireworks were so bright you could see them in sunlight with no trouble.

Fred tapped his wand against each of the fireworks and scurried back to hide behind Hermione. Her memory was jolted by the high piercing sound in her ear; back in the shop, when she accidentally tried to vanish half a firework.

The noise now was much louder and she covered her ears in a vain effort to protect them. The fizzing and hissing got unbearable and then, without so much as a pop, the fireworks began flying into the sky, creating pictures and stories and colours. Ron watched in awe, and for a moment Hermione believed that he didn't notice the lack of noise.

"How about we change the name to _Showstopper_?" George muttered to Fred. "It really puts a dim on things, eh?"  
Fred snickered and pushed his brother away. Resting his chin on Hermione's head, he sighed contentedly. Ron looked happy with his present, if nothing else.

"So you get him fireworks, and you get me a pet fish?" Harry demanded suddenly, making Fred grin mischievously.  
"That pet fish has a name," he said sternly.  
"Voldemort is not a good name for a fish," Harry retorted. "I don't know how to look after a pet, let alone a fish."  
"That's why Voldemort is a great name; you're gonna kill it eventually."  
Hermione gasped and smacked Fred's arm. "That is an awful thing to say!" she scolded. "Apologise!"  
Fred looked ashamed. "Alright, that was pretty cruel of me," he admitted. Then he brightened. "But it has a moustache! As if I wasn't going to buy it!"


	23. Chapter 23

"I've organised the portkey," Harry said, taking out a small comb from his pocket. "It'll take us to Australia. We've narrowed their location down to a twenty-mile radius."  
"How long do we have to search?" Hermione asked, clasping her wand tightly.  
"Only a few hours," Harry said apologetically. "But that's still a long time."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. A lot could happen in a few hours, she knew. Locking eyes with Harry, and then Ron who looked a little green, she held her head up high. They were with her, no matter what.

"You do know that international portkeys are really painful, right?" Ron said nervously.  
"Better than apparating," Harry shrugged. "Ready, Hermione?"

Nodding her head, Hermione placed her fingers on the comb. It began to glow blue, Harry counted down from three, and suddenly she was sucked into a tiny tube with incredibly little air, bumping into Harry and Ron harshly. A loud whoosh of wind filled Hermione's ears, making her wince. She didn't dare open her eyes nor change her grip on her wand, which felt like it was being ripped out of her fingers.

She knew immediately when they were in Australia. The temperature difference was astronomical; that she could feel even during the portkey. Her speed of spinning increased and she couldn't help but squeal when the three of them were suddenly spat out, landing on the dirt floor and rolling.

"We really need to learn how to stop that," Ron panted, now looking pale rather than green. Harry snickered and got up, shrugging off his cloak. Hermione followed suit, taking off her scarf, gloves, cloak and beanie and forcing them into her bag.

"Where's the snow?" Ron asked, kicking the ground. Orange dirt rose up and covered his black shoe. "Isn't it Christmas here?"  
"Australia rarely has snow during Christmas," Hermione said. "It's summer here."

Harry was peering around the area. In the distance, the dirt changed from orange to a pale yellow colour. "This way," he said at last. Harry led the way towards the sand.

The three walked in silence, Ron occasionally kicking a weed or two out of boredom. "Can't we just apparated?" he grumbled. "It's too bloody hot."  
Hermione handed him a bottle of water while Harry shook his head. "We don't know whether there're muggles up ahead, Ron," Harry reminded him. "It's safer to walk."  
Ron gulped down the water without another word.

It felt like hours later they finally reached the white sand, and Hermione immediately knew they were in the wrong place. The white sand was followed by bright blue water. They were at a beach.

"They aren't here," Hermione said quietly. "My parents hate beaches."

Harry noticed her despaired expression and immediately doubled back to hug her softly. "Are you sure?" he asked into her hair.  
"Positive," Hermione sniffed. She couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. How could she be so close, and yet so far away? "Harry, this is all hopeless! It's a wild goose chase!"  
Ron began rubbing her back in a comforting manner. "Nothing's hopeless," he said. Harry nodded his agreement.  
"We probably just walked in the wrong direction," Harry suggested. "They could be in a caravan somewhere. Maybe they're travelling around Australia!"

Hermione chuckled. Yes, her parents did like to travel. She could never imagine them in a caravan, though.

"Let's try the other direction," Ron said firmly. "And I don't care what you say, Harry; we're apparating this time. We haven't got enough time to walk again."  
"How about we apparated to our starting point," Harry offered nervously. "At least we know there's no one there."

Ron and Hermione both agreed, and they spun on the spot to return to the middle of nowhere. Their footprints blew away with the wind as they started trekking in the other direction.

"We're going south," Harry mused, looking at his wand. "The aurors were sure they were closer to Broome."  
"How long ago was that?" Ron asked.  
"Not three days ago."

Hermione momentarily entertained the idea of someone in the ministry deliberately leading Harry astray, but quickly dismissed the thought. Harry was the most popular person in the ministry; if any interference occurred, the culprit would immediately be caught.

The three walked in silence, each sucked into their own thoughts. The dirt view extended in every direction, the bare sun heating their necks uncomfortably. Hermione soon found herself craving the grey skies of England.

"Is that a caravan?" Harry asked suddenly, pointing up ahead. Were Hermione's eyes deceiving her, or was there more flora than before? She blinked, but the green didn't go away.  
"I think it's a caravan park," Hermione sighed. More caravans were in sight, now, as were small cabins and other buildings. "Hide your wands," Hermione ordered, tucking hers away. The others followed suit and they walked faster, Hermione now leading.

It was busier than Hermione would have expected so close to the New Year, and it worked to her disadvantage. They couldn't possibly search every caravan, or look through the entire place.

"We only have about an hour left," Harry warned. "Why don't we look through the property and come back for the caravans later?"  
Hermione nodded. "Stick together, just in case."

They searched the bathrooms – Hermione went and stuck her head in, but it was empty – as was the laundry building. There were various sheds, filled with live music and barbeques, and parks with children playing. The place was so huge they hadn't even covered half of it when Harry said they only had thirty minutes left.

Hermione suddenly heard familiar laughter and nearly cracked her neck turning. There, surrounding a dead campfire, were four people. Two Hermione didn't recognise, but the other two…  
"_Wendell!" _  
More laughter, and Hermione stepped forward in a daze, looking at her mother and father, who were crumpling in on their stomachs in laughter. Her mother had a wine glass in her hand, which Hermione knew to be a sweet white wine, as that was her favourite.

"They look so happy," Hermione whispered, and Ron and Harry finally realised they were meeting Hermione's parents for the first time. They watched her father wave a fly out of his face and make a vain effort to catch it.

It was surreal, seeing her parents so close, but feeling so far away from them. It was at this precise moment that Hermione realised they were now in two completely different worlds that didn't overlap at all, like they once had. Though Hermione felt like she needed her parents, it was clear that they didn't need her, and Hermione felt it would be cruel to rip them away from the happy life they so obviously had here.

"Let's go home," Hermione murmured, taking Harry and Ron's hands in hers.  
"But we just found them," Ron said incredulously. "Aren't you going to go talk to them or something?"

Hermione led them away from her parents. "And say what? Hi, Wendell and Monica Wilkins, you don't know me but can I talk to you over here for a minute? By the way, say goodbye to your new friends, since if this works you won't be coming back." Hermione rolled her eyes. "They're happy here and they don't need me. I can't pull them away from that."

Ron didn't say another word. He didn't understand what it was like to lose a parent, let alone two.


	24. Chapter 24

"Why can't we just go to the Burrow?" Hermione groaned, rubbing her face in her hands. Fred smirked.  
"Because mother dearest banned us from coming over…"  
"When we exploded the cake she spent six hours making," George finished mischievously.  
"That was two years ago, and it still doesn't stop me from going," Hermione pointed out. Angelina moaned.  
"Don't leave me alone with these two on New Year's Eve!" she begged. Hermione sent her a sympathetic look.  
"But I promised Harry and Ron I'd go see them," she whined. Fred pecked her on the cheek.  
"So long as you're back at midnight I don't mind where you go," he murmured, pushing some hair back out of her face. He tucked it behind her ear.  
"Suck up," Angie muttered, tossing a corn cob at Fred's head. He caught it easily.  
"Don't waste food, Angelina," he said sternly. "Corn is incredibly expensive."

So quickly Hermione missed it, Fred threw the corn at George, who was smirking at Angelina and not paying attention. It hit his head with such ferocity that Hermione saw a bit of juice squirt into the air.

"That's my cue to leave," Hermione laughed, squeezing Fred's hand in goodbye. "I'll be back in a few hours."  
"I'll save you some cake!" Angelina promised, holding George back comically as he attempted to beat up Fred in retaliation.

Smiling, Hermione apparated away to The Burrow. It was already quite late, darkness saturating every nook and cranny. Up ahead, the Burrow was a beacon of light, and she could already hear the pounding music of Celestina Warbeck that Mrs Weasley wasn't quite over yet. The door was thrown open before Hermione could reach out for the handle to reveal a stressed looking Ginny.

"Have you ever seen Harry Potter drunk?" she demanded crossly, tugging Hermione inside and slamming the door behind her – the sound of which was lost inside the house.  
"Why?" Hermione giggled. Silently, Ginny pointed to the armchair in the sitting room, where Harry was currently draped over, staring into the fire. "He looks depressed!"  
"He's just finished writing me a love letter," Ginny said, pulling out a frazzled bit of paper with a few burn marks around the edges – Harry had obviously been a little too close to the fire for comfort. "Hermione, he's absolutely mental!"

Laughing loudly, Hermione felt all tension leave her body as she relaxed into the atmosphere. The whole family was here and their respective other halves; the elder Weasley's were in the kitchen, Mrs Weasley bustling about the benches, waving away a concerned Mr Weasley. Bill and Fleur were talking to who Hermione assumed was Percy's wife Audrey, who was a blonde beauty with black glasses. Percy seemed to be having a stern word with Charlie, who had more burns and grazes on him than Hermione had ever seen on anyone.

The clock chimed ten and Harry sat bolt upright, locking eyes with Hermione.

"'Mione!" he greeted loudly, stumbling up from the chair. Hermione quickly hurried over and pushed him back down gently.  
"You should probably stay seated for a while," Hermione said kindly. Harry obeyed and sunk into the armchair. "What's with the whole…" she waved her hand around Harry vaguely, "thing, anyway?"  
Harry frowned. "Well Ginny was nowhere to be found and Ron is with Lavender, isn't he?" he said sadly. "I don't think she liked my letter," he added as an afterthought.  
"Perhaps you should write her one when you're sober," Hermione suggested, holding back giggles at Harry's wondrous expression.

"Have a drink dear, go on," Mrs Weasley said from behind her, levitating a tray of various alcoholic drinks. Her own cheeks were bright pink, her eyes wildly happy. Hermione gratefully took a bottle of firewhiskey. Harry ungracefully snatched up some mead, nodding his head in thanks.

"To another horror-filled year," he toasted, then gulped down the bottle.  
"How about fresh beginnings?" Hermione suggested dryly, taking a sip. Harry simply rolled his eyes, waving at Ron who was heading their way without Lavender.  
"I didn't kill Voldemort so you could ditch your best mate on New Year's for your girlfriend," Harry drawled as a greeting. Ron looked a little guilty but soon realised Harry was only teasing him and laughed.  
"Hey Hermione," Ron said happily, dropping down on the ground beside her. "Where's Fred?"  
"Apparently he and George are banned from coming over because they blew up a cake a few years ago," Hermione said. Ron laughed.  
"Blimey, I'd forgotten about that, Mum was furious," he said, warming his back against the fire. He picked up Harry's bottle of mead and took a swig, going unnoticed by Harry, who was looking across the room at Ginny dreamily.

Ron and Hermione lapsed into easy conversation, Ron talking about married life – apparently Lavender was looking at apartments in London, and they haven't started trying for kids yet. Hermione winced at that and quickly changed the topic to auror work, which Harry joined in on, claiming that he was going to be "head of the department" and together they'd change things there, because it was "currently _shit_". Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the back roughly, making him hiccup.

Neither asked Hermione about how she was, or how her work was, or anything really – it had been two days since she'd decided to leave her parents behind, and Fred was the only one to offer any real words of comfort.

"_If you change your mind, we'll go back and get them," _he had said. _"You did a really brave thing, letting them go, but you don't have to suffer on your own. You can always talk to me, you know?"_

His sentiments were priceless to Hermione, and for the first time that night Hermione wished he was by her side.

* * *

Ron was chatting to Harry about becoming Minister for Magic (Harry was adamantly denying and offering it to Ron) when Ginny walked into view. She had come down from the bathroom and, looking rejuvenated, flounced past Fleur and into the kitchen again. Harry's eyes followed her every movement.

"For goodness sake Harry, go talk to her," Hermione ordered. "You're no fun moping about!"  
"But she didn't like my letter," he moaned dramatically. "She probably doesn't want to talk to me!"

Ron reached out to take a plate of mince pies that were floating around the room ominously. He passed one to Harry and offered the plate to Hermione, who declined. Deciding to go talk to Ginny herself, she stood and smoothed her skirt, told Ron to cheer Harry up, and walked away.

The kitchen was louder than the sitting room, with Mrs Weasley turning up the radio with her wand every time there was a chorus and forgetting to turn it back down. It also smelt better, for Mrs Weasley was baking cakes and slices, miraculously doing it all in one oven. Currently there was a large chocolate cake in the middle of the table, already sliced up. Hermione helped herself to a piece, sidling up beside Ginny as she did so.

"Happy New Year's, by the way," Hermione said casually to Ginny. She had a bottle of butterbeer in her hand.  
"Same to you," she smiled. "Are you going to stay the night here?"  
"I promised Fred I'd be back by midnight," Hermione said, ignoring Ginny's suggestive look and raised eyebrows. She moved her cake into her right hand and used her left to rub her eye.  
"Where's your ring?" Ginny asked suddenly, her eyes narrowed on Hermione's hand.  
"Oh, um, I was afraid I'd lose it tonight so I left it at home," Hermione said honestly. "And I keep getting food in it!"  
Ginny pursed her lips. "A word of advice, 'Mione: Fred would be devastated to see you without your ring, especially tonight of all nights."

Hermione's temper flared but she didn't act on it. She believed she knew Fred better than anyone else, but the reality was she was still learning. Ginny had nearly eighteen years of experience with Fred compared to Hermione's few months. Smiling tightly, Hermione excused herself from the kitchen. As she left, Charlie blundered in with Bill.

"Oi Bill, I reckon you've got more scratches than I have," Charlie cried, giving a hearty chuckle. Bill rolled his eyes at his brother.

It appeared that Ron had convinced Harry to sit up properly and go easy on the drinks, which made Hermione pleased. He was also eating a bit, which meant he'd sober up soon enough. The aura of depression that had surrounded Harry had faded.

"I think I might head back," Hermione said, interrupting whatever it was that they had been talking about. Quidditch, no doubt.  
"But you just got here," Harry whined.  
"I've been here over an hour," Hermione smiled.  
"Bloody hell, has it been that long already?" Harry asked, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up.  
"Yes, and I promised Angie I wouldn't leave her alone with the twins," Hermione explained. Ron was frowning, so Hermione lingered until he decided to speak.  
"Are you replacing us with them?" he demanded, his ears slightly pink. Harry fixed Hermione with a questioning look.  
"Of course not," Hermione said immediately. "You two are my best friends and I'm not leaving you for anyone _ever_. Besides, I came here didn't I? I didn't have to but I did!"  
"I suppose," Ron admitted. Harry was nodding slowly.  
"Will we see you tomorrow?" he asked.  
"If I'm alive," Hermione grumbled, making the two chuckle. "I hate to see what they've planned."

Harry and Ron gave her identical apologetic grins and waved goodbye. Hermione headed off to the kitchen to say goodbye to the rest of the family, Mrs Weasley handing her several plates of food to take home. Saying thank-you several times, Hermione was intercepted one last time just before the front door. Charlie was standing there, staring at her with piercing blue eyes.

"I think that Fred got lucky with you," he said at last. Hermione smiled weakly.  
"You barely know me," she said. Charlie shrugged and gallantly opened the door for her.  
"I have a good judge of character," he said. "Now, that Lavender girl…"  
"Don't say a word," Hermione interrupted with a grin. "See you later, Charlie."  
"I hope so. Tell Fred I said he's a git."  
"Will do."

Tucking the plates firmly against her chest, Hermione strolled to the ward barrier and apparated home, thinking of nothing but the familiar house and Fred.


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione landed in the flat with her back to the front door and immediately knew that something was wrong.

Her feet felt funny. Almost like they were too thick – but as there was no pain, she knew she wasn't splinched. Looking down in trepidation, Hermione saw a puddle of green goo. Disgusted, she lifted up her foot and watched the goo stick to the sole of her shoes in thick ropes. A flash of light made Hermione look up.

"Got it!" George yelled happily, holding his damned camera in his hands. Fred and Angelina were on either side of him, looking sheepish. "That's a perfect look of disgust, Hermione. Merlin, Fred, we should really use that as our advertising campaign!"  
"Charlie said to tell you that he thought you were a git," Hermione said as a greeting. Carefully taking off her shoes, Hermione stepped over the goo one foot at a time. Now barefoot, she took the food into the kitchen. "Gifts from Molly, Fred!"  
"What about me?" George demanded.  
"You're not the favourite," Fred informed him, skipping over the couch and into the kitchen. A childish grin graced his face as he looked at all the food.

Hermione took the opportunity to observe the extent of damage done to the flat. Large balloons covered the roof; at least two layers were floating around. Streamers and ribbons were tied to their ends and trailed down, brushing the tops of their heads. Goo was in front of every door, not just the front door, and varied in colour. A large poster exclaiming _Happy New Year! _was draped over the shelves, making it crinkle in strange places. Music was playing here too, but it was more modern than dear Celestina Warbeck and much easier to listen to. Hermione thought she recognised the Weird Sisters playing. The table was covered in food, some of which appeared to be used for a food fight, as it was littered around the floor as well.

"I missed you," Fred whispered, busying himself with unwrapping the food. Hermione smiled and looked at him, but he was avoiding her eyes. She nudged him softly with her hip.  
"I missed you too," she said. "Let me go get cleaned up, okay?"  
"Sure."

Hermione treaded carefully to her and Fred's bedroom, ignoring George's chuckles at her cautious nature. Pushing the door open quickly, she waited a few seconds before gingerly entering. Hermione was always aware of the possibilities of pranks, and she didn't believe for a minute that Fred and George were going to pass up the opportunity, especially on New Year's Eve.

Thankfully, her room was prank free. Hermione quickly changed out of her skirt and blouse (which Harry had spilt mead on due to an extravagant arm movement) and slipped on a simple purple summer dress. She decided against shoes and almost walked out before she remembered Ginny's advice. Sighing, Hermione turned to her bedside table and picked up the box she kept her few pieces of jewellery in.

Her ring was shining brightly amongst her dull silver earrings. Smiling, she slipped it on her finger and quickly left her room, jumping over the red goo in front of her door.

"Acrobatic," Fred teased, holding the camera. Hermione missed the light that had flashed and poked her tongue out at him.  
"How do I look?" she asked, twirling. Fred grinned widely and pretended to take another photo.  
"Perfect, as always," he said. Offering her a bottle (declined) he led her to the couch, where George and Angelina were already sitting. A small table was set up at their feet with Exploding Snap cards on it.  
"You're back sooner than we thought," Angelina said, shuffling the cards.  
"I felt bad leaving you with these two," Hermione joked as she sat. Angelina laughed and dealt the cards, taking her wand out.  
"Not too drunk to play, are you?" she asked George, who shook his head adamantly. "Good, cause I need some actual competition."

Shouts of indignation were heard and Angelina won the first round because of them. "Losers have to drink," she declared, conjuring some bottles. Grumbling about dictatorship, the twins and Hermione took unwilling mouthfuls. Angelina smirked and resorted.

"You see, Hermione, we do things a little bit differently here," she said conversationally, avoiding a squirt of sap. "The whole aim with us is_ not _to get drunk. We actually like to remember our holidays."  
"And the photos are in case you do forget?" Hermione asked dryly.  
"Tangible proof to remind us," George sniffed, tapping a wrong card and getting Hermione out. She frowned at him.  
"Cheater," she muttered, and finished her bottle.  
"Beater," he sung. "Get us some food, will you, Granger?"  
"Not even a _please_ in that sentence?" Hermione gasped. "You just lost your chance!"

Angelina took George's momentary distraction to get several pairs at once, automatically defeating both of the twins. Fred and George began moaning dramatically.

"We've been defeated!" Fred cried, leaning into Hermione's side and hiding his face.  
"Our long reign, which has lasted a whole twenty days," George continued, shielding his face in shame.  
"Only because we didn't play for twenty days," Angelina interrupted, but her words were drowned out by an anguished wail from Fred and George.

Hermione caught Angelina's eye and couldn't help but snicker. "How about some food then?" Hermione offered, and the twins jumped up immediately, their loss forgotten. Fred held his hands out to Hermione, who laughed and allowed Fred to help her up. His fingers grazed her ring.  
"You're wearing it!" Fred beamed. Hermione looked down shyly.  
"Of course, we're engaged," she said obviously.

In that moment, Hermione realised that Ginny was right, and was incredibly grateful for her friend's advice.

Fred seemed to be in a much better mood (if that was even possible) and turned up the music, twirling Hermione once and pulling her against his chest. Fred led the slow dance, not stepping on Hermione's toes once, and rubbing his fingers over Hermione's lower back comfortingly. After a moment of silence, Fred cleared his throat.

"Not a bad way to end the year," Fred murmured to Hermione happily, who nodded in agreement. "I've been meaning to tell you for a long time now, and I think it's fitting to end the year on a positive note…"  
Hermione met his eyes and spotted the anxiety he felt but hid well with a smile. She nodded encouragingly, for Fred had stopped talking. He opened his mouth.

"Ten seconds!" George shouted. He and Angelina began yelling the countdown. _Nine… Eight…_

"I love you," Fred blurted. Hermione's heart stopped.

_Seven… Six… _

Happiness engulfed Hermione's body, beginning in her heart and spreading right to her toes. She knew that she had to say something quickly, but for that brief second she simply felt, and it was invigoratingly new. She beamed at her fiancé, who looked pleasantly bemused, and threw her arms around his neck.

_Four! Three!_

"Oh, Fred!" Hermione cried, a wide smile gracing her face. "I love you too!"

_One!_

Fred only allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction before taking Hermione's lips with his own as miniature fireworks set off as the clock struck midnight, popping the balloons (who were mysteriously silent) and releasing confetti. Hermione took no notice of the wonderful display, however; her eyes were firmly shut, enjoying the bliss that came upon her realisation that she did indeed love Fred, and had for a very long time, and felt solace in knowing that it didn't matter when she had begun, only that it would last for a very long time.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Second last chapter!**

* * *

Hermione felt refreshed upon her awakening that morning. She stretched her arms out above her head and yawned, blinking her eyes slowly. Fred was still by her side, with one arm tucked beneath his pillow. He was staring at her.

"Good morning," he whispered. Hermione smiled.  
"Morning."  
"How's your head?"

Hermione was aware of the dull thumping beside her brain, but shrugged it off. "It's better now that I'm reassured," she said instead. Fred looked at her curiously.  
"Reassured?" he questioned. Hermione blushed.  
"That you do feel something for me and aren't just pretending," Hermione mumbled, settling into the pillow. Fred chuckled.  
"If I knew you doubted it, I would have said it sooner," he promised. He placed a finger underneath her chin, forcing Hermione to look at him – she put up no resistance, as if she expected him to do so, making Fred smile at the familiarity between the two. "I wanted it to be special, that's all."  
"I consider it to be a special declaration on its own," Hermione said thoughtfully.  
"Then you should have said something first," Fred teased, tapping her nose with his own. Hermione giggled and pushed back the blankets.

"It's the man's place to make the first move, my mother always said."  
"You're mother sounds like a tough woman."  
"She was indeed."

* * *

_February_

"Fred, honestly, I don't think we even _need_ a house yet. The flat is perfectly fine for us, and since George is moving out we can change his bedroom into a nursery if we need to."  
"I suppose we do have three years until we have to have a baby," Fred mused. He placed the catalogue down. "I really think we need to finish our wedding plans."  
"They are finished," Hermione said promptly. "We finished the touches yesterday. I just need to find my dress."  
"And I need to get a suit," Fred added.  
"George apparently has it covered," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. Fred laughed.  
"Not bloody likely."

* * *

_March_

"Are you seriously having your wedding the day after mine, mate?"  
"Well, yeah! I mean, you're the older twin, so of course you have to go first, and then I get to steal your thunder!"  
"Don't be so sure, I think you're just afraid to be shown up in wedding plans."  
"Unlikely, dear brother of mine. I have the best plans of all."  
"George, I have Hermione on my side. You've already lost."  
"We'll see."

* * *

_April_

"What do you mean, _Harry's in hospital?"_  
"He got hit by a curse on duty, he's covered in boils and bruises and has just woken up!"  
"Ronald!"  
"I'm sorry, Hermione! Geez! Next time, I'll tell you straight away!"  
"That's right, you lunatic!"  
"April fools, Hermione!"  
"_HARRY POTTER!"_

* * *

"Where have the months gone?" Hermione asked Fred, sinking back into the couch at the Burrow.

"I have no idea," Fred replied. "One minute it's January, and now we're getting married tomorrow!"  
"And George is the day after," Hermione reminded him dryly, making Fred smile.  
"Angie's getting big now, she's five months along," he said. Hermione sighed.  
"I bet time hasn't flown for her," she joked. She looked over to George and Angelina, who were sitting at the kitchen table talking to Mrs Weasley. George noticed them looking in their direction and looked relieved, standing up to leave the kitchen in a hurry. He joined them on the couch.

"Did you know that there a different ways to fold napkins for cutlery?" George huffed. Fred and Hermione laughed.  
"Yes," they said together. George slunk into the cushions.  
"There are a lot of final touches to make," he grumbled. "I'm glad Angie's helping out now, I don't think I could have done this on my own."  
"How is Angelina?" Hermione asked. "Excited for the baby?"  
"Yeah. She thinks it'll be a boy, but I'm certain it'll be a girl," George said confidently. He gave Fred a very grave look and added apologetically, "She said no to 'Frederina'."

Hermione coughed to hide her giggles. Fred maintained his look of aloofness. "She would have made a good ballerina," he said seriously. George nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door interrupted the pleasant atmosphere of the house. Mr Weasley stood abruptly and, after taking out his wand, went to open the door. Fred took Hermione's hand in his own as they waited. They could only make out murmurs and tones at this point, but it seemed to be a man on the other side of the door.

Soon enough, Mr Weasley came back inside with Kingsley. A ball of anxiety immediately settled in Hermione's stomach and her hands began sweating. Fred rubbed his thumb along her hand gently.

"I've done it," Kingsley declared. "I've overthrown the marriage decree."

The engulfing silence was obviously not what he expected to hear, for he looked bemused at everyone's reactions. "Are you not happy?" he asked.  
"Oh, of course we're happy," Mrs Weasley said quickly. "Yes, of course we are. It's just that, well, Ron's already gotten married, and Fred and George are due this week… so it's just a little late, I suppose, isn't it? Of course we're happy you succeeded, Minister."  
Kingsley was nodding his head thoughtfully. "Well, it's not too late to cancel your weddings if you're not happy with your partners, I suppose, but at least it's done and out of our hair."

The family broke off into small groups of conversation once more. Fred and Hermione looked at each other briefly, then avoided eye contact.

"If you want to –"  
"I don't mind if –"  
"We can cancel –"  
"You should probably –"

George looked wildly between the two before finally slapping both of his hands over both of their mouths. "Shut up," he said firmly. "One at a time."

Hermione pushed George's hand away. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then blundered forward. "If you want to cancel, that's fine."  
"I don't mind if you want to go through with it," Fred said.

Hermione briefly pondered the idea that they had both said the exact same thing, and yet entirely different things, at the same time.

George rolled his eyes and left the two on the couch alone. Fred took Hermione's hand in his own once more, for she had pulled away upon hearing the news.

"I love you, marriage decree or not," Fred said firmly. "But if you're not ready to get married yet, then we can postpone it."  
"I love you too," Hermione assured him. "But it seems like a bit of a waste to postpone it, doesn't it? I mean, everything's ready, and I'm ready, and…"  
"Me too," Fred smiled.  
"And we've put so much effort into it, it seems like a waste to cancel or postpone," Hermione blathered, not having heard Fred. He shushed her.

"Hermione Granger," he said, getting her full attention. "I want to marry you, and I want to marry you tomorrow."

Hermione smiled widely. "I want to marry you tomorrow too."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter is the last chapter and... well... You'll see.**


End file.
